POEM “THE MAD CHILDREN” by martin gedge
Deliver us from evil in the innocence of soul
lost in deep the blackness in a seed to watch it grow
markings on the skin in the signs that we all know
welcome the mad children of the dark
beyond the church of holy in the gathering of dust
among the crop of circles is a child made of us
of strength and will and power and eying in disgust
with blood as cold and bitter as the heart
and in the dire night there is a fire to be spawned
a sacrificial slaughter into the breakings of the dawn
were the residents of Gatlin are either dead or surely gone
as they slip into the crevice of the corn
for those who travel through are just victims of the road
abandoned of a family just to ease the heavy load
a stake to prod a shishkabob and a picture to behold
and thus another litter will be born
for in this the creepy country there is a sacred tale to tell
one not built for bible but the fields of living hell
no cleansing of the water when your dragged down to the well
and all to live will answer to the boss
for little Isaac Chroner has a boner and belief
in a trial of your elders with the matters to deceive
will gain the judge of guilty on the the son of Satans sleeve
to engrave into the skin the burning cross…
by martin gedge©
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