Theatre of Tragedy – And when He Falleth

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Be my kin free fro carnal sin
Bridle the thoughts of thy Master

(There hath past away a glore fro the Earth
A glore that in the hearts and minds of men
Men dementéd, blindfoldéd by light
Hourisheth as weed in their well-groom’d garths)

(Might I too was blindfoldéd ere)
The quality of mercy and absolution
(Tho’ years have master’d me)
Whence cometh such qualities?
(A masque of this to fashion)
Build thyself a mirror in which
(Seer blest, thou best philosopher)
Solely wanton images of thy desire appear

(Tis the divine comedy)
Tis the divine tragedy
(The fool and the mocking court)
The fool and the mocking court
(Fool, kneel now and ring thy bells)
Fool, kneel now and ring thy bells
(We hold the Earth fro Heaven away)
Make us guffaw at thy futile follies
Yet for our blunders, oh, in shame
Earth beareth no balm for mistakes
(We hold the Earth fro Hell away)
We hold the Earth fro Hell away

That cross you wear around your neck
Is it only a decoration or are you a true Christian believer?

Yes, I believe, truly

Then I want you to remove it at once and never to wear it within this castle again!
Do you know how a falcon is trained my dear?
Her eyes are sown shut. Blinded temporarily she suffers the whims of her God patiently
Until her will is submerged and she learns to serve
As your God taught and blinded you with crosses

You had me take off my cross because it offended

It offended no-one. No, it simply appears to me to be discourteous to… to wear the symbol of a deity long dead
My ancestors tried to find it. And to open the door that separates us from our Creator

But you need no doors to find God. If you believe

Believe? If you believe you are gullible.
Can you look around this world and believe in the goodness of a god who rules it?
Famine, pestilence, war, disease and death! They rule this world

There is also love and life and hope

Very little hope I assure you. No. If a god of love and life ever did exist
He is long since dead. Someone… Something rules in his place

(Believe? In a deity long dead?
I would rather be a pagan suckléd in creeds outworn
With færytales fill’d up in head
Thoughts of the Book stillborn)

Shadow of annoyance, ne’er come hither
And when He falleth, he falleth like Lucifer
Ne’er to ascend again, ne’er to ascend again



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