The Final Hour
Man peers through his atmosphere,
His eyes look beyond the grave;
The laughter he buried and the sin
he shamed.
His poets he slaughtered,
Paying homage to his fools,
who laughed joyously in their cool.
They never figured a god was with them,
They took what was good
and stole you.
And now busy living it up,
You are living like living does
the final hour looking the other way.