The Sixth

Guilt lays hard on the hands of The Humble.

Straying about, here and there

Never stopping to look around, beware

Of the melancholy spots surrounding us thus,

Here, there, around everywhere, with fuss

At us be-cuss no one sees, no one hears

The ones who are coming to bring tears

To the heavy hearted hardy handlers

Who take one wrong turn into Mandlers.

Now spinning, now flipping, now crashing

Into the abyss we have been thrown,

By our own intentions we should have known.

Here it ends, here it lies, the forget-me-not

Fruit that evergrows in our minds.

Our own mistake, our own wrong turn,

Once only once did we reach out and burn

The hearts of the beloved, the hearts of they,

Those who stood before us, listened to us say;

I am here. Here I stand. Before all of You.

What a moment. What vision. What a View.

Follow Me. I'll show you the Way.

Be not afraid. Be not led Astray.

And so we went and we walked

We dined and we talked.

All fine and dandy strolling along

Until that poor schmuck hit a gong.

And so we are here.

At the bottom of the abyss.

And no one can see to the side.

No one can see, only can we bide.

And the Mandlers are around unrelenting.

At this moment in time we think repenting.

And all the while we cannot bear the weight.

Until that poor schmuck opens up the great gate.

And then all shall look to fantastically behold and see.

Up above where we once stood firm upon solid ground.

There is a Light of Hope leaking from every angle around.

Guilt may lay hard on the hands of The Humble,

But after the fall has been accomplished, ye arise from the crumble.