Golden Child

You were born of the stars, within the waters of life,
I held my hands out to you offering sanctuary,
Sweet golden child, you were destined to rule,
In the silvery twilight of yesterday,
Your myth, your legend, your fairytale saga,
Would go down in the annals of history,
Your demigod status that crowned you with thorns,
Spilled blood on your pages of litany.

I was an apostle, a mercenary to your words,
I wrote them in blood and I carved them in stone,
Through tears of blood I cried out your message,
To fall on the deaf ears of morons.
Your philosophical angst at the plight of the people,
Lay burning in the sands of the desert,
Cooled only by a shadowed veil of misery,
And the uncaring criticism of cold hearts.

Your martyrdom too, has fell by the wayside,
To be used as an excuse or an apology,
The blood that you bled as you suffered in vain,
Has become merely, a souvenir industry,
A keepsake memento, or a battle-cry,
A small token to your remembrance,
It seems that the world has passed on by,
From your offer of deliverance.

Your words have been twisted, their truth ignored,
Spoiled by the politics of greed,
Interpreted by the bastards of Babylon's whore,
To incorporate their power hungry needs,
They deliver redemption by spinning your teachings,
To condone their debaucherous orgies,
And endorse their ideas of contempt for subordinates,
To make all kneel before their authority.

Sweet golden child, your words have been lost,
To the quicksilver poison of wealth,
They were quick to rebuild the tables in the temple,
They are ignorant of all but themselves.
I bleed from my heart as I watch the decline,
From the truth that your tried so hard to teach,
As it evaporates, along with the waters of life.
Forgive me golden child, I have failed you in my sanctuary.