The Throne

by TPAC

Waves ripples on grass, rolls set tips darkness, float in the water a log its swamps bog voices fog viewed shot figures walks smoke vapor life.

Steps hear creeping it beside the flowing river, aside the bath sounds traveling path splashes, behind flapping leaves there reside bright eyes.

Locust trouncing taps must at stumble forest, rushing all in a trail zip its wrinkles gust things, running slow then fast turns there low in night.

Mirages desperately a mound zip up put curls this mountain, seeking a fountain its gleaming high, crying pain loudly leaving or walk up a hill.

Folk lives enclosed its tide tells men torments, rippled a dreadful ride disclosing sad tortures, saw souls lowest fear dooms a slide the liars.

Lightning rays surging from skies laid thunder, warning care crackles sound its sharp flashes, tone pruning darkness it defy hate illumination.

Throne targeted those to flee a right justice as guilty, hid not the mice it to nest for rest, exist nice none among them paid its price hurt fears.

God's say Mount laws ruling to state this way, to stay His facts know Lord's justice folk truth, defy any evil watch He a King of Kings forever.

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