The Axe
Do you believe
That in the shadows of the faithful
Rain will come? Did you really think
That God, so cruel, so infinetly cruel
Would listen when you called
screaming on your knees
Like a criminal
Waiting for the exictioners axe?
The scorn in your voice
As you repeat yourself
Terrible as it sounds
You enjoy the silence
No voice from above
Or below
Nothing at all
Even father time is silent
No ticking of a watch
No sounds of the past crumbling behind us
The future forming form its remains
No answers to your screams
Soon your voice is empty
Not stone like your heart
Not your festering soul
Just your empty voice
Aching to be heard.
In the silence
The axe falls
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