Hopelessness is insidiousuntil,
suddenly, like a revolution
Man admits to a Godlessness
and the ensuing schism divides his being;
There is a rumbling at the border of your life,
making midnight raids at the countryside.
The first casualties are the extremeties,
the outer environs of your limbs…
Your possessions, your job and the children you clutch most.
So you close the castle gates,
hold up in the tower,
Discard, but your faith, to the hunger of the crowds,
as advisors whisper over your shoulder
‘Give up your crown, your reign,
your palace, even abdicate’
And in the strait shape of a white shift,
without mistress and head shaven
You walk the steps to the Iron Maiden
and are stillborn into the next life!