The Day of Reckoning Comes for Saint Upid

Hear ye! Hear ye! O people all!
From market square to castle wall!
The horns of fate now loud proclaim
A reckoning wrapped in holy flame!
For every ram shall meet its day,
Its destined judgment come what may —
And now that fateful hour draws near
For Upid, saint of blustered fear!

Raise the banners! Sound the call!
The mighty council gathers all!
Let bells be rung from hill to shore —
Saint Upid’s mask shall fool no more!

Through towns we ride with trumpets high,
Across the fields, beneath the sky,
Announcing news both sharp and sweet:
The Great High Council soon shall meet!
Though Magic Mike strove night and day
To keep that solemn court at bay,
At last the elders broke his bars
And summon now the saints and tsars!

Raise the banners! Sound the call!
The mighty council gathers all!
Let truth shine bright and lies grow pale —
Saint Upid’s charms may finally fail!

For what shall council judge and weigh?
The deeds he hid, the debts unpaid!
Is Upid truly heaven-born,
Or just a grifter, orange-shorn?
A trickster draped in holy cloth,
A peddler sly, a merchant wroth?
And should he fall, by sacred hand,
Shall council cast him out and ban?

What if the saint is but a fraud?
What if he mocked the house of God?
What if his fellowship of fools
Has twisted all our ancient rules?

So gather all at dawn’s first light,
Let no one slumber through this fight!
For Upid’s crew — the numpty band —
Will try to meddle where they can:
There marches Carol Dumbtongue’s voice,
And Bambi’s scrolls, by Upid’s choice,
And Peter with his straw-spun sword,
And Cash the Moor with donkey lord!

Raise the banners! Sound the cry!
The council’s hour is drawing nigh!
Come stand at dawn before the gate,
Protect the truth before it’s late!
For destiny now calls the day
When masks shall crack and lies give way —
A saint or fraud, the world shall see:
Saint Upid’s blessed reckoning!