Sonnet 77 - Sin Is A Reproach To Any People Poem by Dennis Lange

Our fate is sealed; gone is the rule of law.
The court has taken on itself a role
Of changing words to legislate; its claw
So proud in reason as it takes control.

The source that gives it power is ignored -
It does not matter what a word might say,
Nor that its range is roped - it cuts the cord.
It bends words since it feels a certain way.

We are a Sodom waiting for the fire,
Gomorrah for the brimstone's choking smell.
We're tolerant of sin because the choir
We're singing in wears robes that come from hell.

God's holy Court will soon in judgment sit
And lowly court will get its final writ.