Godsong

Goodbye, Bacchus.

God didn't come.
The song went unsung.
If he's not here, what then?
What now?
If not then, then how?

Faltering.
So much blood,
like a red, red wine.
There wasn't time,
and that should have been fine
because we had all eternities before us.

I have seen the legions,
they tore at their flesh,
and each wound was fresh
upon my back
and my voice was raised
and constantly on the attack.

God didn't come.
The song went unsung.
We have no purpose here,
my brothers fall to fear
and from their lips tear cries
that fall upon deaf ears.

I broke the fingers of your hand,
that delicate hand
that flayed my back.
I knew you'd understand.
We were wrong.
There is no place for us
without the song
and as the red star glows
we cannot stay.

And so I went away.