What Goes Around

Perhaps it was a folly of the ignored deity

To assume that the worship that keeps gods alive;

That the manna gained

From the prayers of mortals

Would come to him

Once all the other old gods were

No longer worshipped.

He was struck with sympathy

When he saw the ocean god bound

With six-pack yokes, trawling nets and

All the refuse cast away by people

Into the bright blue sea

That was once a clean, clear blue

And woshipped as The Cradel Of Life.

He grew frustrated and angry at the sight

Of the bruised and bleeding body of

The goddess of Love before

All love was isolated and confined

By the followers of the god of War

And his insidious mutated angels

Known as plague and imprisonment

Moved across the Earth of men and women.

Both sexes of humanity

Prayed from and preached

Those unholy gospels

To feel

He shed fresh salty tears

When the god of the forest

Was cut down,

His flesh stripped

And his body corrupted

With unclean chemicals

Before his remains were buried under

Grey, smoking asphalt where men placed

Concrete and steel temples built

To the dark gods of greed and avarice

That reached up to challenge the sun god

Who had far less green to feed.

The god of the Sky

No longer attended the cities

For fear of choking to death

On ill smelling smog

And oxygen corrupted by

Machines.

"It has been a regular Ragnarock lately?"

He thought.

His tricks and plans

Seemed listless

And had lost their bright, shining

Luster of brilliance and success.

Not much made

The god of Lies and Mischeif

Laugh anymore

Except...

Mankind had grown up.

Humans no longer needed gods

Os so it told itself.

For the God of lies knew the truth

That mankind still had a need

To pass the buck,

Avoid and shirk responsibilty,

To proclaim loudly and with sincerity

"It's not my FAULT!"

And point the finger at someone,

Anyone else but

One day their would be no one

Left to accuse.

And on that day the gods would be back.

So, the Trickster threw back his head

And laughed at days to come.

The return of the gods

Who withhold their gifts

Because of humanity's guilt

In their own destruction.