Defiler Poem by Charles Karia

Woe to those who defile my priests,
Who give them food when in fasts,
And tempt them with honey wine,
So tainted they are no longer mine.

When for a season I deny thembread.
To change, their ways, heart and mind,
You in cheekiness give them stolen bread,
On defiled wheat my people you feed.

With the abnominable wages of a harlot,
My holy people you slyly tempt.
And then boast of of your exploits.
For buying souls of pastors.

So your day is coming and soon,
You will look for a single man,
But you won't get them to pray,
In pain all day you will bray.