The Devils Brand

Tears fall like rain from eyes of gray,

As the somber and silent nuns kneel in unison to pray.

Small thin children lie stricken in hungers cold and consuming bed,

whilst barons of haughty pleasure, control life's giving bread.

Therefore, men, who are in lack of a Kings treasure

and once held their head on high, now rob and steal,

For so desperate are they, in their measures

to provide their family a home and meal.

 Yet, even in this,

The King and his merry men,

Scoff at those, who share not their bliss.

For their hearts are of stone,

And it is damnation that resides in their home.

As they in their insatiable greed,

Forget those, who for years have met their need.

For I have seen them laugh and joke,

at the misery of the average Joe.

I have also watched in sad dismay

As they ridicule the beggar man

for thanking God for this day.

I have seen them,

as they have seen me,

Yet invisible am I

to their unconcerned eye.

However this I have to say

their day will soon come,

When they, and their followers,

become the unfortunate ones.

It is that day,

when the beggar and I will stand

in the fields where angels play,

and it is they…and their evil seed

who will wear the mark

of the devils brand.

J. Allen Wilson © 2004