The ferryman

None can book a crossing    
fesivals smiled pain in goodby waves;  
the Tora, its words so old and dusty    
to wail for prophesy  
Can you walk on water    
faiths shekel to save or spend    
righteousness come as manna --    
some earth some nourishment    
or garment-laden, past endeavour    
The ferryman, heeds no inclement weather    
your name upon the slate    
payment or a free ride, that tide    
the life you lead
Written by slipalong
Published | Edited 16th Mar 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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