Sunday, 24 March 2013

Gunfighting for God


Flat land baked beneath a one-eyed sun
We pray, waste our breath, that rain will come
A drop of sweat rides the arc of a windswept brow
Hands dip, guns drawn, hear them shout

One man fought for honour, the other for some pride
Another fought for Jesus, another for his lies
The reason was irrelevant, the outcome was the same
Blood soaked the parched earth, a libation to this game

The gravedigger cut the soil, six feet down
The mourners lowered the boxes one by one into the open ground
Grim, the priest with Book and Cross prayed for their souls
Smiling, the undertaker dressed in black counted out his gold

And over this, in stately silence, rode the golden sun
Chasing across the sky from morning 'til the day is done
A silent witness to the eternal struggles playing out below
But powerless to intervene in God's pathetic side show