He’s in the middle of a hell
Knows each corner, knows them well
Knows the how so many are scream shells
Which explode and with fire impel
The idler demons to ring the bell
Which causes the many shells to lurch
Across the yard of the man without a church
He watches things from his window seat
Watches chaos take the streets
And watch the black coat Shepard guide the sheep
To a place where they can mutely bleat
And find a place to rest their feet
And in the end give up their important search
And he see all, the man without a church
Skeletons that walk the road
Shaved over skin and of load
They bear no burdens but dare to goad
All the sitting smiling toads
Who wise not to leave their abode
While vultures sing canary song’s from their perch
Across the street from the man without a church
He’s playing a piano made of gold
Singing in the words of the old
But which fall upon the world as cold
And the fire place its stories told
Takes with its fading form his thoughts bold
And leave him stranded in the lurch
Of the spasms of the man without a church
The sultan scarecrows smile wide
And passing a coin around hide
In there little circle they do bide
While a rat is starving just bone and hide
A young man pokes it, wait its died
And after eating it goes of in search
And finds food with the man without a church
He’s writing all his tiny sprawling plans
On a parchment of shifting sands
Into which his quill sinks and stands
Solemnly without his hands
And gives to him a holy reprimand
To stop this vein humanistic search
For hope to the man without a church
There are others as well it must be said
Some in the schoolhouse though many are dead
Some in the missionary begging for bread
Some offering prayer-forge blueprints that dance in their heads
Some follow golden letters so read
But all of these away from him lurch
Running in fear from the man without a church
So he sits on a cloud made of stone
And looks cross this field on loan
To a man who makes bows out bones
And cries that he can not fight all alone
While mountains all cry and drone
The desert stretches for ever in search
Of everyone even the man without a church
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