life is but a journey, yea
We all know that.
But, a journey to where
No one knows that.
Here at a cross road
No directions as to which way is best
North, South, East or West
At the mercy of spineless wit and orders spewed by a wreckless priest
North or South
East or West
Confusion rushes in and blurs the line
The crescent moon incandescent and inadequate to light the way
The way to salvation and eternal bliss
Weak, thirsty and bloodied from this journey
The vessel rickety and oozing effluvium grinds to a halt
A nasty stink accompanied by greedy buzzing
Is constant reminder of age long pryhhic battles
At this crossroad, the vessl stalls
North, South, East or West
Not even the Bible cladding prophet can tell from the rest,
The way to truth indicated by the cross
Casting shadows in the midday sunshine.
North, South, East or West
There is little hope of finding a way
The way to peace, unity and progress blocked
Not even five decades less one of incessant slogan chanting
Has helped this jaunty vessel to find the way
The way that leads to peace and unity
From the North, South, East and West of the national tributary.
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