Children of Wrath
The Poem is Prologue
Had I but rhymes, ever rugged and coarse,
Fit for this bleak tale, I might sweeten
The sting of piteous truth, wooing the
Humble with a song of heartfelt soothing.
...
This is no task for maudlin wits, nor tune
Played on Pan's impish pipes; if we are blind
To the false within, we will never hear
The songbird's notes, or feel awe of its singing.
...
Its tune, like precious pearls, waste not on fools.
They weep not with those who mourn, nor rejoice
When others sing for joy. Biding no ones
Counsel, their hard hearts ever unyielding.
...
They hear no voice but want, and know no form
Save desire. Lust their guiding star and
Lies their native tongue; their lot is filth and
Despair. They will hear a different tale.
...
Once upon a time in a world hidden
In smoke and filled with woe, there was a bird,
Silent, its song all but forgotten by
People who long since abandoned all hope.
...
The denizens who dwell in the dusty towns
Gathered round its forlorn valleys do not
Remember its promised coming, nor
Imagine respite from accursed lives.
...
Like the bird, golden, succulent harvests
Are misty memory, darken'd skies and
Wither'd crops their lot. People long for the
Release of death, all songs of joy forgot.
...
In fearful silence, one lone bird still dwells,
Twisted briars its day-bower, the bird
At twilight appears, its small, darkened shadow
Flitting like a bat on the wing.
...
Its nocturnal nature denies, what none,
Even the bird, can know, a bright plumage
so striking, a glimpse would make us whole.
...
But no one sees its healing beauty. Its
Darken'd plumage hidden; its golden voice
Secret, shivering amongst twisting thorns.
...
The bird is the unsung song, the unhoped
Hope, the unprayed prayer: the possible
Impossibility. No one sought out its
Wonders or chanted for its appearing.
...
The people creep like shadows, appear more
Wraithlike than paupers, fearing lawless bands
who steal and cruelly torment, undeter'd
By slothful king in hidden distant keep.
...
Yet crueler still desire, some for food
And drink, others for lascivious deed,
Many hardened hearts lust for shedding blood.
...
Each appetite answered by helpless want
The lustful ruts with blind desire, unfulfilled,
The murderers kill, but their hate is never sated,
While the lonely pilgrim wanders to and fro.
...
Where are you going, Pilgrim, cowl'd by woe?
What do you seek? Truth spoken by liars?
Justice from the powerful and corrupt?
Divinity amidst the forsaken?
...
Pilgrim answers, Whose face do you see when
You gaze heavenward? Whose voice do you hear
When the thrush sings the evening vespers?
Whose eye burns most brightly in the heat of day?
...
It is not God who is lost, he chides.
Open but your eyes and see, unstop your
Ears and hear, my friends. God seeks for us.
If God seeks us not, we are truly lost and children of wrath….
About the Creator
John Cox
Twisted teller of mind bending tales. I never met a myth I didn't love or a subject that I couldn't twist out of joint. I have a little something for almost everyone here. Cept AI. Aint got none of that.
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Comments (32)
Congratulations on TE🎉🎉🎉 These lines Lust their guiding star and Lies their native tongue; their lot is filth and Despair. They will hear a different tale. Remind me of those in power now.
Very beautiful poem. Here's mine https://shopping-feedback.today/authors/danielle-mosley-rrf0n40ghs%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3Cdiv class="css-w4qknv-Replies">
This is beautifully profound and thought-provoking! The imagery and questions stir the soul, and the message is both humbling and uplifting. A truly inspiring piece!
Ahhh, what a tasty appetizer you have crafted here. Congrats on TS recognition for this literary gem!
Beautiful and true.
"It is not God who is lost, he chides." Hooooooo John! You've been holding the ace of spades. What a power pack punch of lyrical language! Top story, top poem, top your soul-mind connection congratulations!
Your words beautifully capture the deep complexity of truth and the stark contrast between wisdom and folly. Through this poignant narrative, you remind us of the importance of listening with empathy and understanding. Life's true song is reserved for those who open their hearts to the world around them. A powerful reminder that joy and sorrow must be shared to be fully understood. For more reflections and inspiration, visit https://miegacoanmenu.com/wp-admin/.
Congratulations for a top story!
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Back to say congratulations on a well earned and deserved Top Story!
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Amazing
and it's poem's like this that remind me I am naught but an Amateur. Tremendous work.
As an observer of birds, there is a powerful truth to their presence and this tale. Well done my friend. Congrats on top story. 🕯️
Congrats on this spectacular top story
Truth spoken by liars...yeah, sadly seems to be a pretty powerful draw...but these lines tread a pretty harsh line. Lean too far one way or the other and the consequences are dire. This is magnificent work, John....we have been properly schooled. AND, I, for one, love it
Congrats on your top story Read my story please https://shopping-feedback.today/trader/greggs-steak-bake-recall%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/span%3E%3C/a%3E%3C/p%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3C/div%3E%3Cdiv class="css-w4qknv-Replies">
Back to say congratulations Well deserved
Ah, sir...captivating as ever...dealing in heavy weighty things...but it never feels unrewarding...DK is right...those last few stanzas, particualrly where it breaks into three lines a piece are stunning. Can't wait to see what you have planned as the main feast! Congrats on Top Story - deserved!
This is wonderful! As a prologue, it would definitely make me want to keep reading!
This was all superb, John, and I was especially struck by the last three stanzas! If this is but a prologue I eagerly await what comes next!
What an epic poem, John and much like those of former days. Such lovely poetic art.
I love the mystery of your verse John, "Who's voice do you hear?" Like a beautiful mosaic.
Well-wrought! I will always hold that Divinity is found within the individual heart and in the energy that never ends. We might find it too between the walls of a temple, but this is only a reflection of a reflection. The source includes all things, is all things, and needs not to be worshipped or praised, for if the self is part of God and God within the self, to demand worship and praise would make God the ultimate narcissist, would it not? I cannot acquiesce to such an insult, but to each their own on their own travels. They will learn from time, who is the ultimate, implacable teacher of all truth. "Sweetest in the gale is heard, And sore must be the storm That would abash the little bird Who kept so many warm." -Emily Dickinson
As always, a lot to think about. Good job.