Of Mortal Men Poem by Alexander Beebe

Of mortal men that bend the earth to fit their inward purpose,
their fist raised high, their bellowed voices feast upon the masses.
Faith replaced with idol worship, hunger grows much deeper.
The food consumed taunts the void; its poison dulls the senses.

The struggle that retreats our faith, concedes to paths of pleasure.
It feeds the flame of mortal men who bask in Satan’s treasure.
The stories told of Kingdom’s power stretching shore to shore.
Their walls now dust, the treasure buried, the weed bears fruit no more.

Belief that rages in the blood that spills the blood of others
Conceding none to neighbors close forsaking friend and brother.
A daughter’s life at father’s hand, justified in teachings
Donations made to feed the poor go to those not needing.

If body fed but not well nourished consumes the soul and spirit.
Of mortal men who play like gods which rise but quickly perish.
Our faith if placed in God alone will grow and live forever
His mercy great his love so pure should be our one endeavor.