I was there, the last time that God lost
His Faith. Admittedly, since the death
of His Son, there have been a few bad
years that could have influenced His
decision. He sent a note to the self-
regulating Heads of His Church,
those collectors of the faithful, that
they had lost their 'Master of Ceremonies '.
And yet, like the perpetual turning of a
water wheel, the world continued to turn
on its axis. And its ghostly moon continued
to relect the sun. Man still either hated or
loved his fellow man. And, in His absentia,
the deacons of His faith still pressed on with
their own brand of unctuousness, ensuring
every reverent man remained in tow. And
that the much needed zealot didnt become
rudderless without the smoke and mirrors of
Dorothys Grand Wizard. Too many careers had
come to fully rely upon God's franchise. Perhaps
that was what He had lost faith in? The burden
of carrying an overloaded workforce. However,
the Lord did eventually regain His Faith.
How do I know? Well, for a while I was one
of the chosen. So, there you have it. No poets
code, no similes or rhyme. Just plenty of irony
and pith. Sorry to all of the faithfil if I didn't use
enough parable or the requsite dose of deference and guilt.
For you see, I've lost my faith.
Commendable confession, perhaps. Enjoyed reading. Thank for sharing.10 points.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm sure this would invite heated discussion from bipolar points of view. Fascinating read well penned.