The Fragility of Camel Vertebrae

What if the harmony of saints and sinners / Broke in moments o’er passing of bread? / Temporal and shallow, this generation envisage / Martyrdom, not white but red / The clamor of thousands, scurrying in fear / The horsemen’s cruelty made known / For all the years of fatness and pleasure / Turn to ashes; the glory of Rome / Echoing the past, foreseeing the future/ The end of all things is at hand / Still the Father is good, sparing us fault / Sending pain to rain down on the land / Bleak, they call it, a travesty of grace / If Benevolence exists, why trial? / Yet dross it removes, and gold it refines / Sifting those who are Christ’s from Belial’s /