Converts To A Cult Poem by Terence George Craddock

converts
to a cult
were searching

to a need
ready to grasp
a trendy flickering

in darkness
night
moth torch burning

light
in net advertisement
well prepared snares
need filling

target
campaigns rape
mind mine new converts
speared pouring

in response daily
to new intrigue cults
new sought causes

leaders
within inner circle
smile contentedly

new cult altars
demand precious
metals silver gold
is worthy of a God

gems will receive divine favours
givers prepped give time fleeced
when harvest is ready for reaping


Terence George Craddock (Afterglows Echoes Of Starlight)
Copyright © Terence George Craddock