Wishing on Corpses

He says to bless the meek with gentle whispers and compassionate hearts;

plague the lonely with sharp words and stone cold stares.

Forsaken are the meek when lonely,

For they cut open their chests with introspection.

Countless pennies are wasted on prayers

I say bless those who created the wishing well;

letting us believe we could buy ourselves a new hope.

Tie them up and throw them in.
The water will cure the emptiness of their lungs and a coin will rest beneath their tongues to open the gates of a new home.