An Aussie Goodfriday Message

And the vote has been placed in the ballot box

A hand dipped into the offering bag

We await the tally

The hand grows hot

Will it release a blessing or not

At stake is a herritage listed site

And a battle takes place between darkness and light

Will it be preserved and granted resoration

Or will it be marked for total demolition

We can still perceive she was once a beauty

Back in the days when she would have served her duty

She began as a lighthouse then converted to a temple

A hospice for the sick both physical and mental

She then became a fort where military made camp

After that, a brothel for every kind of tramp

Pompous ones sponsored her facelift

And turned her unto a casino, with a bistro and a market

But now her figs have shrivelled and it looks like she might cark it

I guess we'll see what the Democracy shall do with her

Will she return to former glory?

Perhaps come Sunday, she'll still be standing

To tell a whole new story

I hope the vote will be a mercy

Cause she's such a unique structure

And she's done well to still be here with us

Persevering through many a disaster

She's survived flood and fire and war and plague

And drought and quake and disease

I imagine as she awaits the virdict

She's praying on her knees

But she could also remain a Jezebel who's not worth a grain of desert sand

So we'll just have to trust the Expert Engineer

And place it all into his hand

As I reflect on this masterpiece,

who's marred and scarred and ruined

I wonder how much we perhaps share in common

As might every bloke and woman

For although we've seen great sights and had delights

We've also fallen into deep disgrace

And we would not be standing here this instance

If it weren't for our Maker's redeeming grace

Of course the site of which I speak today

Is the house of the human race

And only 2000 years ago heaven and hell dear Zion faced

And her Beloved 

Took time out to turn his back upon that place

As he pondered, should there be a reason to keep up the fight

To remain at work on their marriage, with all his bloody might

He measured out and cast his lot

And decided to betrothe anew

And graft into a contract draft

New mysteries he would to do

And so we're here in the silence of Covid

As our Groom is at work in the quiet

And he writes out some prenuptuals that he hopes may stoke heart's fire

The kind of things that prove his love's not cheap

Yet is filled with a longing for his Lover to keep
 
And his passion for her's never tired
 
He must be planning, as did happen at the cross
 
Some fancy ways to salvage the lost
 
And be listing skills to call for hire
 
To beautify his bride at any cost
 
And to rennovate their home in style
 
And enlarge it for a harvest enormous
 
And make the renewal of their vows
 
Super-awsome-licious gorgeous