Apostle

He rose from the mist, came clear and became apparent, he had risen from where, mist rose from the dust, wherever he went, he shook the dust, and made for change, he also churned the sky, about his height, to give rise to lot of mist, each time both cleared, that is dust and mist, they clamored for a look at his visage, that lovely well shaped face, with that beatific smile, and a look in eye, that splattered all intelligence around, he like a pied piper, herded them truly around, they pined for his few words, for he spoke only a chosen few, and each time he did, his undid a knot that strangled many a mind, they looked for him forever, and lived under his shadows, the day came when the familiar mist was gone, and there lay aheap of dust, they were looking for him already, and found the apostle had gone bust, but he remained in memories for centuries, they now prayed to him in ethereal and he was god, the apostle was there and had remained.