King, tyrant, leader, preacher.
Hand of God, fear the reaper.
Sheep like masses, follow meekly.
Upon a monster's shoulders; weak.
Praise him, damn him, raise him up.
Their bloody bile to fill his cup.
In effigy, their enemies burn,
Forefathers in their graves; turn.
They say they do, they pray, they slay.
Whatever it is their Master says.
Righteous in their skewed beliefs,
No succour, no rest, no peace or relief.
Brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers
Torn apart by one men's blither.
Divided by thought, word or hatred.
The bitter taste left; acrid.
In hearts and souls, hope springs eternal.
Though fear still rises, like hell; infernal.
Time will pass, change will come.
But what has been wrought, can't be undone.
About the Creator
J.B. Miller
Wife, Mother, student, writer and so much more. Life is my passion, writing is my addiction. You can find me on Linkedin at https://www.linkedin.com/in/brandy28655/
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