The Apocalypse Bastard

The Apocalypse Mother  
(stood up at the alter,)
sold her bastard blue baby
to some red-righteous father.
As for the fair child,
look and you’ll find him
beating plowshare to sword  
while the son hangs behind him.  

      Sure as the sun turns the leaves,
      before the book closes cover,
      we will mourn the daisy head  
      of the apocalypse
mother.

The linen white faithful,
in the midst of The Fall,
each with a prayer for their shield
they go as they’re called
to the plain of Megiddo
where the blue baby lies,  
they bring a kind tender way;
he steals their wafers and wine.  

      Once fed, he recites a prayer
      he’s reserved for all the other
      illegitimate children
      of the apocalypse ...  

Down the hallowed gray halls
of institutions, I see
those throughout history who’ve gained  
from something greater than me
who’s been enslaved by religion,
corporation and State,
learning what I should love,
and who I should hate.

      If my intentions seem vague
      well, I’m serving more than one master,
      but such is the way
      to the apocalypse ...