Preacher-Creature

Poem

Oracles and prophets

I’d never seen them fall

Their discords though few

Meant trouble for us all.

​

Trites against vice, or

Mutters of priestly poise

Wise men these Augurs

Banished our choice

​

“Now you must believe

So, all else may live

A belief so compelled

Evil is all else held.

​

Look to the poor

Now cry for the weak,

I sympathize

therefore, I am meek.

​

Do be so odd

Pray to my god

It's known I’m pure,

You sure are not.”

​

Perhaps this critique

Hadn’t much intrigue

For the few that knew

I’m a preacher too.

​

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Posted Sep 14, 2022, 11:47 AM UTC

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