He said, I walk the “Devil’s Backbone” with the lights of Loveland down below, and from here I see the answers, it’s the time apocalyptic, read from words so now I know. Now I answer when Augustus calls me, when he makes a certain sound. Like the church choirs all singing, till the bells come falling down. And the Hammond sounds decrepit when it plays the shepherd’s call not at all the way it’s master planned it, hear it quake before it falls. Still in all this morbid glory in the stars from which I fell, I look onward to a talisman west or east now I can’t tell. And in wrath in certain darkness, beneath the statue of the sky, I turn toward my darkened master, and I say as in reply! Why me?
In a spot torn of its glory, from a land that’s lost in its pride, I come ringing lust and story, thorns to place on weak insides, and I say unto the poor man, you’re not rich like that man there, go and take from his table, make what he earned your own lair. For all around you is injustice, peer upon it with your eyes, take from this land that is plenty, you’ll not be hungry ever inside. And know that no one looking can see you in daylight, but in the night you’ll come a crawling, your want’s not denied. The only question you must answer before the quaking of the dawn, is when your thirsty without an answer, look to him for then I’ll be withdrawn. And in wrath in certain daylight, beneath the statue of the sky, you will turn toward the darkened master, and you’ll say as in reply! Why me?
There’s a time, in place of calling, that has caused the fevered brow, of those good and lowly servants, beneath the heavens and the sun, on those fields not plowed. Now they suffer with their burdens, how they suffer all this night, and it is my time appointed to take their wants and make them right. And I call down fires of greed, and envy, oh I speak of hidden lust for the things that bring on misery, from my father who says I must. I see the eyes that think of present’s, of the flesh of hidden love, of having things most wanted, without the effort or the trust. And I look unto the fathoms of the truth that lies can’t touch, and I tell those most willing learn from me if you must. And in wrath in certain darkness, beneath the statue of the sky, I turn toward my darkened master, and I say as in reply! Why me?
Close enough to October 31, I suppose! – 10.10.2016 – דָּנִיֵּאל