Raptures Eve
Without light, the world is cold and dark.
Sans decorous evergreens to light up the park.
Cries in the night, flesh hidden from view.
It’s a nightmare - a deep, unsettling brew.
The sun, moon and stars, lightning flash
all traded away for immorality’s cash.
“Think…think…think…”
Can’t remember one iota of ink
from the treasure trove of prophecy
and its fulfilment. Despondency -
weeping and gnashing of teeth
in an angry and funereal bier underneath
the sheath you thought protected you -
world was your oyster, avoided the pew.
Laughter and arrogance like thick fog,
now you reside in a fiery bog.
Dear one, this is not what the Father wanted,
however you, in reverie, were not undaunted.
“Commandments, rules, bah-humbug…”
Your claws, to the center of the earth, dug.
Your plot led to your eternal plot.
You’d close your ears to what was taught.
Is it merely a nightmare? Is there time left to believe?
The hourglass sand of 2,000 plus years. Rapture’s Eve?
12/15/2022
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2022
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