The Crime of God

A dream I dreamed, a dream of death, and death appeared to me

Of blood I dreamed, a broken corpse, I knew that it was thee

Beyond the years of youth and joy, of fleeting, whispered love

There lies the realm of broken dreams, the curse of God above

Beneath our feet, above our heads, through length and breadth of time

Through death’s dark gate it lies in wait,  the fruit of God’s great crime

There long have wailed the withered souls, cast down from life and light

Within the halls of misery, designed our hearts to blight

Oh! Children of this beauteous world, take joy and life and breath

So brief the span of all our lives, so swift the call of death