Crossroads

The baker left open his oven
King Judah had been betrayed
Where sat the island of a thousand years
To the fires betrothed, displayed
And while seas may churn and shout
The boiling will go unheard
Not a sinner will be left to spout
The kettle of a willful herd
Though ladies turned up their bikinis
Sour waters seek not to yearn
Frothing their deep-blue obscenities
So foamed the isotope curd
The world caught near at crossroads
A future unseen to the day
Wherefore delivers the dawn
Where shadows sermon and stay?

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