All masters desire their slaves.
All slaves desire to be masters.
Love around the mulberry bush,
They circle round the clock,
time ticking away at their heels
Click clock click upon the tired stage:
These are the stars that fell long ago
to display their shock and awe and glow,
Greedy for praise and appraisal,
these dying stars aim to hold God’s glory:
Some are easily buried when the cold rain falls,
and all their memories become ashen pale,
photographs of nowhere and no one at all.

They die in the minds that worshiped them.
While others become desperate enough,
to call the light-bringer once again,
to give their Soul,
and the blood of their children,
to him, their Lucifer, god of beggars, slaves,
liars and starving dogs,
Click clock click, they await their entry
once again, dead men walking
,
seeking their falling star.

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