CURSED
Cursed is the world and damned are the days,
When heroes are scorned and evil is praised,
Where wicked are blessed and insults are jest.
Stone are the hearts cold in their chest.
Blind are its people to their own demise,
Which blazes before the scales on their eyes.
To death do they haste, with error embraced.
They cling to their lives only to waste.
And the earth groans around them.
Wind, fire, quake, flood they see.
The voice of God reminds them,
Where they are, and where they could be.
Have they not seen, and will they not learn?
How long will they die, before they return?
Their striving is vain. Their pleasure is pain.
For lack of the truth many are slain.
Yet the earth shouts the answer.
The heavens their hope decree.
The voice of God reminds them,
Where they are, and where they could be.
Remember when laughter meant joy and not scorn?
When husband and wife kept an oath that was sworn?
When honor was sought, injustice was fought.
Tragic the day when mortals forgot.
Yet the earth shouts the answer.
The heavens their hope decree.
The voice of God reminds them,
Where they are, and where they could be.
Blessed be the day when men would repent,
Restored to the life for which they were meant.
To glory from dust, to riches from rust.
Blessing from curse if in God they trust.
If mortals should ever remember the way,
Seek God and live, believe and obey,
The heavens would rend the Lord would descend
To make all things right in life without end.
And the earth shouts in triumph!
The heavens roar victory!
The hand of God now guides them
Where they are, to where they will be.
(C) 2003 by Dan Seidel
