“Reflections On Labor and the Divine” by Lilith Xseraph

The world is lit by the grandeur of man

Fed by the grace of her hand

Backs bent,

In communion with the soil.


Whose endless love,

Whose thankless toil;


With the last sun searing summer skies

Spilled out on borrowed land

Flames out with silent cries


“When then now will we reap our own?”

What generation after generation has sown

For all this we will not be spent:

The magnates,

The parasites can have our rent;


We will not be docile,

Nor repent


For the sins of our masters.


For the kingdom of heaven is of the broken,

For the kingdom of heaven is of the wretched,

For the kingdom of heaven will pay us a living wage;


Sisters, brothers,


Even the skies can hear your rage.


by Lilith Xseraph