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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Odour of Excess. Sitting together, smiling benignly, sipping coffee, flaked with 24-carat gold-leaf shavings, their empty souls, always on the prowl, to sate, the latest cravings. "sell all your jewellery, and give to the poor", revolutionary words, uttered by His son, Jesus of Nazareth. Well, we all know what became of him, when we see God's Sacrificial Lamb, stuck up on cross to bleed out and to die. And today, two-thousand years on, we are drenched in the rivers, of the crocodile tears, that His people on Cable-TV do cry. It reeks of ostentation, and of smug conceit, for their hollow piety stinks, as they suckle on, and bite down hard, on capitalism and greed's raw teat. "pay your workers before the sweat on their brow dries", so said the Prophet of Islam, Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) in Arabia, more than fouteen-hundred years ago, and while they will slaughter me in an instant, if I were to curse his name aloud, they dishonour him, each and every day, as they sip, on their designer coffee, flaked with 24-carat gold-leafed shavings, masking their crassness, by screeching their prayers, five times a day, and ever so loud. They stink of money, and their odour reeks, wafting across all lands, lingering on for weeks. Now some will say, that I envy them, and thus I am sore, but honestly now, let's ask a question, was this what God the Merciful had in mind, when He sent His Son, and all His Prophets, down upon this earth for?
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