| The Grave Robber | |
| 121 | One night a broken grave robber |
| set out to claim his prize. | |
| A mission yielding gold and gems | |
| would quell his appetite. | |
| 125 | A newly laid archbishopric |
| had lost its budding chief. | |
| The funeral at noon that day | |
| precludes the robber’s sneak. | |
| He strapped his boots, pulled on his gloves, | |
| 130 | he donned his shadow mask, |
| and when the clock struck 12 that night | |
| he sought his greedy task. | |
| The winding streets of sleepy town | |
| obscured the burglar’s quest. | |
| 135 | A cat, he crept up to the church |
| to prey on gruesome death. | |
| The handle of the giant door | |
| was locked by key of brass. | |
| The heaven-peaked high window glass | |
| 140 | nor yet would let him pass. |
| A secret way into the shrine | |
| is known to gnostic few: | |
| brave men descend to hidden depths | |
| and crawl a tunnel through. | |
| 145 | This man raised up a sewer grate |
| and shimmied down the hole. | |
| He paddled to a foul rat nest, | |
| brushed vermin down below. | |
| Thus he revealed a secret cave, | |
| 150 | a fox hole to the crypts. |
| He crossed into an open room | |
| inhabited by lichs. | |
| The ghosts of priests and holy men | |
| laid tranquilly at rest; | |
| 155 | the tremor of their peaceful guilt |
| panged lightly on his chest. | |
| Continue on, the end is near, | |
| step up the sacred stairs | |
| and enter the impressive nave. | |
| 160 | Fulfill your evening dares. |
| He stood before the archbishop, | |
| all clad in silk and gold, | |
| who lie asleep, an endless deep – | |
| his flesh corrupt and cold. | |
| 165 | The thief knew of the saint’s great deeds, |
| but naught would sway his aim. | |
| The crook was focused on his task: | |
| his rushed larcenous game. | |
| He took the crozier and the ring; | |
| 170 | he took the clothes and all. |
| The high and pious man laid nude | |
| like Eden at the Fall. | |
| Now to escape before the dawn, | |
| back just the way he came! | |
| 175 | The robber wound back through the streets |
| and to his home again. | |
| That bandit never was ensnared. | |
| The township’s heart was lost. | |
| What started as one man’s grave sins | |
| 180 | came at a graver cost. |
November 24, 2014
Ballad of Man 
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