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(02/08 / Orlu)

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The Profaned...Or Sacred?

O citadel once great!
Magnificient, you stood glorious
Heaven's birds on you perched
As they sing to your maker.

O temple once fair!
As His hands did you make
The creator's with much care
For He, in you, shall dwell.

O house once hallowed
From the abundance of the ONE!
How you've been shadowed
By the cloud of your wrongs/ own doings.

Once made from the earth
Then despised and trampled upon
Now marred to death
Any hope like the risen one's?

Through your windows unrestrained
Came flying the vultures
Foul dungs down they rained
In the dwelling of your maker

Your ambo speaks
Not in praise of Him
But with certain insolence
Some blasphemy and sacrilege.

Never free, your sanctuary
From dead bones and carcass
And your altar a mortuary
For all who worship in you.

Once great, fair and hallowed
O man, wonder of creation!
Then nought, rotten and profaned
Your body, God's temple.

For more, the flesh craves
The eye, for lust acquiesces
The heart, for shadows yearns
The tongue, like fire, blazes

Your maker, deprived, waits
The vultures, from you, drive
Clean up! Open your gates
In His abode, may He enter

Then shall your ambo sing
In praise and joy
And once more be pure
And not again profaned.

Submitted: Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, November 14, 2012


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