Orison of the knowing

Welcome home to this world, this world that makes us;
The world is the land beneath the road that takes us
On the journey we so often seek to undertake
Unto cities of gold where lie the fortunes we must make!

The world is the name of the cross that aches us;
The world is the home of the foe that stakes us;
Here we with memories bury the hatchet of hate
When our golden dreams fall to the ground insatiate!

The world is the hue of the blindness that breaks us;
The world is the shade of turmoil that shakes us;
Only here rests the unseen good of an unseen god
But punishment–oh yes–must be with a firing squad!

Such is the reward of this world that baits us
Guarding our treasure with trying fate it awaits us!
It is no longer the world that once remained our own;
'Tis the sole truth to the ignorant we must make known!