‘Bloody True’ she said a girl ‘Anne Boleyn’ so named.. for the bloody story of Henry the Eighth.. so shamed..
Looking for his mother.. grandma.. one this spoiled child saw.. booking shows with brother and the blue bloods noble paws..
Look a woman you can love.. mother no doubt said.. ‘woman she is’ said the priest.. fearful for his head..
Speaking with God as he said.. as delusion claimed.. in inquisition proven.. we are not born all the same..
Spoken through times light and dark.. to fight or harken sense.. priest thought of women deceased.. they knew.. those bloody dense..
Abusing position.. cyber.. sound.. lensed ipods.. brother for a fallen priest .. who blames such games on God..
Wisdom in religious books.. love and peace desired.. fate nature energy good.. those tire of ‘wired’..
To a toy.. a game for sure.. pure logic nature sent.. for those lost in confusion.. so actions done are bent..
Henry VIII Louis XVI ring your golden bells.. you can dance.. regain your pants.. a good story to tell..
Hitler paint your houses.. Stalin go back home.. priests of all holy acts done .. Zion to halls of Rome..
Beware you of thrill killers.. wary they must be.. bought and sold in fear.. they fear all life they see..
Easy they are threatened by the very things so good.. see beavers eating carrots.. see rabbits chewing wood..
So it goes.. lie spoken flows.. back to solid ground.. back forever till true done.. resolves each lie it found..
Thirty thousand years or so we circle back again.. shy in fear.. drunk laughter tears.. waiting for a friend..