Latter Day Sinner

(A Modern Horror Story)

A monster rises in the sky
It is a giant flaming eye
All things hidden are revealed
Every sleepy dirty field
It demands that we must rise
From our beds with bleary eyes
Stretching from our comfy coil
From our banished dreams to toil

The sun is up
There’s work to do
Bright and blight
We can’t eschew

Some say they love the shining rays
Again again in many ways
But then complain throughout their days
Of unloved work that only pays
A wage of lucre to their hand
For doing things they cannot stand

So treasure night
It’s sweet caress
With dreams of joy
Without duress
For soon it’s gone
And we’re forlorn
To another thankless, trudging, pitiless, insistent MORN

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