Sold
There is no difference,
the saints whisper and every enemy and ally
wake to forever’s difference,
that neither knee nor tongue will deny.
Doubt bit into Innocence and sold
the first coffins wrapped in pride.
Creation became a seed – a box filled twofold,
when under silt, Eden died.
Secular tides engulf their last season
to bury God and Baal,
synthetic rainbows enlighten treason
fulfills the fool’s tale.
Escape suffering to bend
love to an abstract sum.
Detached absurdity when
a false bliss is done.
Not enough of Earth’s blood
to sustain paved veins,
a technological flood
of isotopes and labor pains.
Fiat economies root for
the drug and gun,
made the bomb’s core
hotter than the sun.
infusions of contraband’s revenue
numbs the inconvenience of sin.
A dream’s fence became headstones ensue,
declared wars we can’t afford to win.
Seeded skies less blue to breathe,
the incense of death and device,
ivory towers babel and seethe,
lies spoil the last grains of paradise.
One rich man though licked by the flame,
still sees Lazarus as a servant and to those
who tear Christ off the Cross to make him the same,
Judas still hangs in the shadows.
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Written 10.28.16
Contest: Saints and Sinners
Sponsor: Silent One
Copyright © Rob Carmack | Year Posted 2016
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