the feast;

Sunset fades, a molten hue
Deepening to a twilight blue
Crooning wind is softer still
Than cotton lacing a windowsill
The cottage sits, alone and bright
Shining beacon of delight
The smell of home upon the air
Unsettled by a darker prayer
The troubles and wants of travelers weary
Are met and vanquished by those cheery
The cottage holds a false desire
A steady, roaring, hateful fire
Consuming, stoked by rich and greedy
Lights upon the tired and needy
Luring hopeful wanderers in
Soon begins a feast of sin
Feast of soul and feast of flesh
Eat the heart and burn the rest
Innocents used to stoke the fire
So much more than hell requires
Appearance is a false perception
Heed me well, avoid deception
Troubled minds and lives that break
Are all this country seems to make

--------