Thursday, July 14, 2011


They've protected the entrance
Of the sacred place
For centuries alone
Without human contact
Without touch or song
Without kind embrace
They serve with honor
Without reward
By their word
Their service is long
But their job is vital
The sacred is vulnerable
To the entreaties of the wicked
And should they gain entry
The result would be terminal
For the sacred is pure
And all that has value
Everything else is dust
Dream and screams