In the Rocking Chair
Woe you
Sodden man, whiskey drunk and worthless
Atop the rocking chair.
Shirt collar splayed.
White whiskers abundant.
Remember when mother held your hand?
Now you are long forgotten
and mother is dead.
He comes for you
Sodden, whiskey man
Your sins are not an alternate truth
Like the rats around your rotting feet,
Sins aplenty, the rot spreads in you.
Do you know your granddaughters birthday?
Do you know what you made her do?
What a backwards curiosity you rotting old man
No wonder He comes for you
Hate's last breath will seep out your door
Once you open it, you'll open doors no more
Time echoes at your doorstep
You're nearing the end of days
But you know this old man,
You in your obnoxious slumber, breath raspy, lungs burnt black
Do you remember how the grass felt on your feet?
You ugly, soulless, sodden man.
Do you remember your sins?
Unnatural motives all of them, most of them
No matter, He will judge you
I think of the scales, tipping out of your favor
Will you groan and cry, old sodden man?
No one will watch you cry, no one will carry you on
The undertaker's dream, you will kiss cold hard earth
Six feet under and six feet down again.
He will be your witness
He will watch as you pass by
Carry on old man, slumber on in peace
Not much longer until He takes your keys
to life, and lust and all else in between.
Forever in a rigid motion, Die as you might old man.
Don't fall off the rocking chair though, that'd make it all complete,
The sinister malice filled screeching of hell transcends time old man
There's rats waiting at your feet.
waiting to feed
yearning to feast
on a woeful,
whiskey drunk, worthless old man
in a rocking chair.