Flock
god has gone
but man lives on
to sing to him
in hymnal song
like fallen tree
in vacant wood
no roots where once
foundations stood
don't build upon
the shifting sand
in hope that god
might still his hand
the church hall scowls
with empty chairs
for like the wood
there's no one there
so in obeyance
man see's the light
and follows on
as good sheep might