Oh Come all Ye Faithful.

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Orange lights split the sky

Tearing garish holes

In the velvet blanket,

Calling the faithful to worship:

Metal monsters, of varied hues

Belch noxious breath,

Fighting with each other

For a space to rest

While waiting for their supplicants

To pay homage.

The faithful collect

Square wheeled icons

Before joining

The congregation.

The cathedral is lit

With a thousand candles,

Disembodied voices

Softly croon

Messages of hope

And salvation.

The worshippers

Fill their cups to overflowing

With precious gifts

From across the world,

Forged from the death

Of children.

The faithful hand clerics

Cards of plastic

In gratitude

For their bounty,

Their souls

As surety.

I say this

To the money lenders,

To the conglomerates,

To the profit makers,

Hark!

For I shall await you

At the deepest of Dante's levels

Where I shall feast

Upon your souls!!

                                             _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Owain Glyn

Dante's ChildrenWhere stories live. Discover now