Easter Sunday

I've definitely run out of things to say
Feeling the answers are continents beyond
The questions might be closer to home but joy resists the fading thrall of blood
On a day like today
And this new character is already taking its toll
He sleeps late and personally I find his ethics somewhat distasteful
Whilst I’m folding the washing I’m thinking
Of all the corners cut
Of all the red eyed slaps
The conclusion is keep going
Because you can’t beat God
So stop looking in the pews for a muse and hit the dancefloor
Hit the gallery, hit the lecture theatre but please think beyond
Divisions and great hair styles and conviction
Think into a new obsession
One with higher returns and healthcare
In a suburban castle where sprinkled stardust on the doorstep
Loses its lustre and becomes so much more cladding
Who exactly is this speaking? We put this heart and soul into each twenty four hours
Sending the right message to the person at hand
No time to not be shallow, fickle
Brutal chasing
That which makes us whole

Heart and soul heart and soul heart and tarnished soul existing
Within the echoes of greater men, in the shadow of the divine
Creating ,or some lesser activity
To pay the dues on this soul
Grinding whichever axe looks dullest turning the blade away from the light and thinking of their smiles as we swing up for the deathblow