None You'll Understand

"I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother..." - Matthew 10:35

I put on my song and dance like a travelling Vaudeville show
But you take it as real
You smile and nod approvingly at blackfaced minstrel antics
You think I'm just fine
Ignore my tears
And call them a sympathy play
You sternly inform me of the stake I've driven in
As you slowly baste my spirit on an open fire
Poking me with a rod every so often
Lest I get too comfortable
If I lose my principles
I shall be freed, you say
Give up the fight and save my smoldering soul
But I am Shadrach
I am Meshach
I am Abed-nego
The Son of Man keeps me from burning
I am battered but not broken
I'm not shattered though I'm shorn
The sackcloth and ashes I wear now
Shall soon be shed for a gown of glittering splendor
My King shall welcome me into His arms
And when you meet Him before the bar
I shall plead for you
But the scorned authors shall point their fingers
And the ancients shall mourn the broken chain
And there will be great weeping and gnashing of teeth
As your titanium cardioids reveal withered, undeveloped seeds
So concerned with losing your brains
Nothing else could enter
You are the hollow ones
You are the stuffed ones
You are the ones that cling to your dross
No longer saying "ni?"
No longer demanding the impossible?
My refusal to use the herring suddenly makes sense.
After trying to burn all my oil in your great bonfire
You shall beg me for some when the bridegroom arrives
But I cannot spare any if I wished it so
I leaven your bread but you don't realize it
You condemn it like angry Jews at Passover
You can do your best to cover my pearls with mud
But there are some you'll never reach
Some you'll never see
And none you'll understand.