They Might Know

 

The puppet sock,

The mask we wear

The show we put on

The fear of people

Knowing your

Ploy for purity,

They can’t see,

Remember the blind man

You walked across

The street they aren’t like you,

They have no savior to run to

And when this island falls

Into the ocean we will drown alone

And afraid gasping and wishing

We would have listened to the

Warning of the coming storm

 

What is this thunderstorm

That haunts me, what is this

Story that is writing inside of

Me, what is this ache that I

Can’t break, what will it

Cost, shall I burn at the

Stake for going the other

Way, for fear that my best

Friend is my stranger

 

On the thresing floor,

Wrapped in the war

Between now and

Eternity, I seek tranquility

But envy and strife encompass

Around me

 

Sprawled out before

You, o mighty king

Weakness in a bottle

I break at your feet,

Banqueting table chatter

I play on repeat

For you humbly wash

My feet, no demand

Of a receipt Just as

A daily treat that my

Life is yours