As little boys and little girls

Play witches toys for stabbing pain,

The universal host makes better those you

Send insane, and if covenant who power seek

Send little knives of hate,

            Then returned through the mirror

Of the Angels be all the pain you raise!

                                                Michael.

 

                        The Last Chance of Honesty

 

 

I am walking through woods,

So profound a look of fear by the sound

Of the birds who call their last breath

And shedding tears, I realize

That powerless as I am,

The song of those whose freedom

Is envied by demons of hatred,

Is not over as fast as bullets

That call for executing Man.

            I am walking and as the stride

Quickens I see falling paper,

Charring remains burning in embers –

The policy that castrated

The old man upstairs.

            For too long ago, a deal

Bridged by contempt for his kindness

Was quickened by poison,

And the old Man was duped by

An abuser of children but now

The policy again is all changed.

            Each complicit in harbouring

The guilty sly of violence upon those

Without power, each psychological

Dictator, each a new arse-hole will tear!

For the crying has stopped as relentless

As once the sacrifice of cherubs

Provoked.

            Now they’re circling upstairs

With bullets of crosses, each dum dum

Religiously packed with authority from

God, to take all collusion away.

            So keep ringing the bell for every

Child you sell, keep ringing the bell

For all the abuse you don’t tell,

Keep ringing the bell for your pennies

You’re saving,

Keep ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing,

Until tinnitus is the all you’ll have left,

            For when the led tears you in two,

And you cry like the child you despise,

Then your authority will be your own hell.

            The policy has changed,

And the debt be all yours,

For the whipping of children

For the ones you keep killing,

            For the lies you designed to

Cover up all you have given

In hate and damnation,

For the fucking of children aged three.

 

            I am walking again with God and the Angels,

And the tears of acknowledgement of all we have

Suffered, is the signal that the old man upstairs

Has been hurt,

            And never again shall he be duped

In a game,

And the children roam free on the Earth.

 

            (Singing the death of an infanticide club

 are the birds

Who welcomed the Kingdom to Come,

And they feed from my hand the seeds

Of life, to be scattered and sewn in the soils

Last chance, and never again will the Man

Turn away, but nurture through love

His children,

            And all gone are the demon insane).

 

Michael J Waite 19^th May 2011.