No one waits with fork and knife
for cesspool pie, unless a whacko.
And yet, the beastly pangs of Life
arrive, on time, strait from the cracko

of unfair fate. Like rats on trash,
someones been chewing the crust.
Massacres and mayhem's clash,
turn Grace to grime, and dust to dust.

A U-turn made 'round about here
rewards the lucky and the bright.
but crucifies the insincere
masked bandit troll, pretending sight.