Tattered Country Poem by Charles Karia

What happened in this our country,
Long before we started to live in it?
Altars were by our fathers raised it,
But not for the Jehovah most high.

These altars and dark groves,
Was but a portal to the dark side,
Tunnel for spirits and minions,
To access our realm invited by men.

Our land is tattered with openings
Full of holes and portals that stumble,
Shrines under trees hills and rivers,
Snare holes awaiting naive mortals.

These were places of blood sacrifice,
initiations done under guise of culture,
Places where blood was poured out,
And demonic watchers were planted.