The Mayans were right.
Held you down tight.
In the dead of night.
Didn’t put up a fight.
Swallow the liquid down.
Foul, frothy and brown.
Wear the paper gown.
You were given in town.
Climb the steps.
One foot after the next.
Flex the biceps.
Digest the cordyceps.
See the Snake on the stairs.
The mass of people in the squares.
The night lit by flares.
Live the history for your heirs.
At the top the Plumed Serpent awaits.
To take your heart.
To seal your fate.
You feel no pain.
Would do it all again
and be slain.
To bring the rain.
thejrpc 