Threnody

I join the ancient threnody
my heart breaking from the weight of my grief,
unable to find relief,
I sing this mournful melody,
of too many ruling their hearts mendaciously.
To whom may we turn for purity?
We must pray,
for we, like sheep, have all gone astray.
We listen to ceaseless voices,
our attention diverted,
our live's meaning perverted...
And then we breathe our last.
Hell has enlarged herself
with poets and philosophers,
regnant politicians and jaundiced wiseacres,
filling their oubliettes
with unholy detritus.
Their carefully built vanities
crumbling from the weight of their despondency.
Nothing of the love God sent
to conquer their crenellated hearts
can get through their hardened ramparts,
arteries thick with the pride that self keeps alive.
In the end, their ramshackle castles
will not keep nor protect their soulish chattel
but all will be exposed
by God's eternal glow.
There'll be no
darkness left to hide in
no time left to repent,
hence,
this lonely lament....