A satyr sits atop a tree,
Glaring back straight at me.
With his eyes of inquisition,
Staring at me in my position.
Over a hill in a lake off yonder,
There sits a pedagogue and an ostler.
Drifting by their clothes are burned,
The Day of Reckoning has returned!
A humble thief sits there praying,
Whispering his age old saying,
“You alone cannot see,
What his death doth mean to me.”
On a cliff there stands a seer,
At all the mortals he does jeer,
“I hope at last that you have learned,
The Day of Reckoning has returned!”
Around a tree the people confessed,
Troubadours, harridans and an alchemist,
That all their sins they’d done were wrong,
To prove that on this earth they belong.
There are those who don’t believe,
Who look and laugh and decide to leave,
They were for whom no one mourned,
For them the Day of Reckoning had returned!
© Kris Blackburn 25/02/2001