A Horse Named Maniac

I ride into the future—
Borne on stalwart Maniac,
The storming clouds are swollen,
And parade in swarthy black.

The lightning strikes in yellow,
With bright pyrotechnic flares,
Across the hills and valley gloom,
Through snowy winter airs.

I hear the snort, I kick mine feet,
I thump upon mine horse,
I keep my cool through violence cruel,
And gallop on with force.

The vitriol of yesteryear—
In sweeping gusts and squalls,
I race apace in hellish wind,
Through Hades’ darksome halls.

The hurtful judgement bowl of woe,
Dost vex me though I speed,
The kinship bond with Jesus gone;
Unto the dark I’m freed.

A neverending hellscape,
Neath Polaris in the skies,
The winds of hate will not abate,
Or mercy grace mine eyes.

“It is a fable, son, I say”,
The priest had said to me,
And this has proven true I think,
In worsening degree.

With deadly sin abounding,
Slaying souls in bitter rage,
Anger, lust and greed the thieves,
That steal the future stage.

Sloth and envy, aye, and pride,
Have never known such reign,
And Maniac with reddened eyes—
His whinny marking pain.

We cannot know the lofty Christ,
And must consume this fate,
Cast from heaven by our sin,
Disowned at heaven’s gate.

So thus our Eden withers — cursed,
Despised or left to rot,
The vistas flashing past are rank,
And happiness forgot.

The mark of Cain, the stain of blood,
The screams to find egress,
The magic black, increasing lack—
The devil’s cold caress.

Though Maniac is brave and true,
He’s sensitive to shock,
He feels the wry impending doom,
And ticking of the clock.

We know it’s hell and God is gone,
We know the trees are bare,
We taste the acid tang of fear,
Yet steely is our stare.

I yell mine charge to gallop on,
And swing my whip with glee,
For this I know: just as we’ve sown,
We’ll reap our destiny…

ADL