The Lights At Nero's Party -

How vaguely we eschew complicity with You,

it’s always run-arounds, excuses

and words we bind to nooses

just to sullenly let swing

the best of arbitrary things,

like, do we care about the poor?

Oh yes, but we support the king.

And we’re starving for the slaughter.

A man gives up his daughter

and the walls that keep us safe

aren’t saving anyone.

Didn’t You say

to risk everything?

And we’re left dieting for more

and then we’re burning on the tor

that flanks an emperor’s affair.

We’ve hardly sacrificed before

so in manic heavenward stare

let the confession from our lungs

that as our bodies torch the air

to the fanfare and the drums,

amid drunken wild acclaim,

we have the urge to scream Your name.

and without hesitance or shame

affirm our place among the burning.

And our bodies break, confirming

our inability to remain

without an object for our yearning.

Our inability, our inability.

«Oh God, accept our spirits

into Your holy presence»