Chancellor Nelson Poems

What deity controls my fate?
Unmask thyself, O' Devil!
Religion is the studying of a pop quiz,
One that may never happen.
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Advice is always free, maybe even ill gotten
Choosing to use the advice is where it is rotten.
If not, the outcome could be worse
If so, you might save yourself purse.
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The age of reason has long past, checked in over-due, to a dusty library
Filled with the manuscripts of time.
It's not on a shelf, arranged alphabetically by the author's last name,
Or teetering haphazardly atop a pile of stacked books.
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War.
An extension of politics
Is there a victor?
Talks of right and wrong
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When I am old and decrepit
I shall be critical of youth.
I will wag wrinkly, hardened fingers
At any trespassing children that
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Reflecting emotions,
It stares back at the one who gazes.
A staring contest? Maybe so,
But, the victor is not determined,
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I'm not sure how long we'll last
For dust is to dirt as dirt is to grass
But, grass is greener on the other side, no?
I suppose from afar it might seem so.
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I've heard of a man who harvests life
Swathed in dark, he reaps with scythes
I have no fear of mortal men
But, talks of Grim will tremble hands
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