Pages Of Misery Poem by Yorktown Disciple

When the light of the Holy Rapture
speeds to the earth, and men of
crudely infused atoms stir the pot
of selfishness as they take up arms
against opposing ideas -
faith matters.

Suddenly, trust in epicurean sin
cannot override the wailing sounds
of cowards and thieves.

The blood of the Almighty washes
quiescent rust from the unbeliever
and monastic hurricanes cut stingy
thoughts from the stubborn mind.

Alas, pages of misery are ripped
from the substance of sinners, and
darkness hides the smug, splintered
fool.

Only prayer remains.