I am the great apostate
Staying up early
Waking up always late;
Unrestrained
Thoughts, wondering about
Unfettered, uncoupled and unchained;
Even if they be cruel
Causing wanton suffering, senseless pain
I foolishly trust all of my favorite sins
to my spirit thus they be ruled.

They’re always coming and going
Never ever staying for the fame,
For the destined glory
Angels and Demons alike
Playing out my cemented fateful story
upon open air stages,in inked stained pages
selling out for very small-like tiny wages

Babylon and Rome are now burning
And yet who can put out the debt
Of an insatiable,
unwary desire and yearning;
This too shall be
the penultimate epithet
Read around a roaring campfire
And a ceaselessly burning pulpit
From the mischievous waxed lips
of a pretty little precocious poppet

For the promise of an endless surfeit sunshine
Behind the metallic gilded gate
Stands me, Julian the cheap and lonely Apostate
Ushering in the glow of our
Unsettled turbulent Pagan times;

Marching us off to war,
Driven by a well-marketed,
passionate tirade,
They get us all dolled up
for their spankingly grand licentious Parades;
Sending our inconvenient little ones
Off on their merry and aimless “modern” ways;

Now that the end is near
Oh me!, Oh my!
Oh dear! I See the wake of my
Timed out apostasy;
All I got was spooled illusion
for my less than ambitious,
ridiculously placed
confusion,
It was not just the dope
That went all up
in the fiery smoke
But it’s the offering,
the smaterring, the flattering
of all that false hope
Dashed and scattered
in the grey and dying ashes
of frightfully contrived
echoes and splashes.