The Shepherd, the Sheep, the Wolf, the Cabbage

by on September 13th, 2010
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Backsliding, broken off the tree

How does one repair an ancient prophecy

Judgment begins with the good

As the wicked wait in scents of wood

And crooked generations cut all hearts

Chiseling salvation is an art

Fiery trial lit by lamps, powered by the sweat of soul

Smile, He only tempts until you lose all control

Sunshine days are over, all that remains is light-

The quest that’s worth a million murdered brides

The holy one is stuck in traffic

As future spawn make a racket

He can’t come back until no one

Mourns his death under the sun

Only then will skies depart-

Bronze mountains, horses stark

Then all the fiends will fall out of the clouds

Like mother’s water breaking on a shroud

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