The morning after, the man arose
His body shaking, torn by throes
The torment of an infernal fire
But yet his heart filled not with ire
"Brother your slumber has gracefully ceased
Come, dearest brother, rejoice and then feast"
The laughter among them was more than he'd bear
He silenced them and was met with a quizzical stare
"What happened brother, what did we do?
Did something in here bother you?"
And as his choler seemed to increase
They thought it best to bring a priest
Father Florentius (Invidia gloriae comes)
So holy in his agony
Father of liars (Invidia gloriae comes)
Drowning in hypocrisy
That very evening, the priest arrived
His face embittered, his act contrived
"Meet Priest Florentius, a bloke from town
Within his presence, you shouldn't frown"
He grew wary of his acrid disposition
And his eyes that shone green with his attrition
Father Florentius (Invidia gloriae comes)
So holy in his agony
Father of liars (Invidia gloriae comes)
Drowning in hypocrisy
in ignem aeternum
I wish thee infernum
Of brimstone and evil:
False prophets like thee
Deceivers of Satan who fake sanctity
How I desire,
No – cast thee in fire
Oh, how alluring
Your charm, it can be
I cannot stand with peace in my heart
As your abbey is ripping my life's goals apart
Benedict, smug, as you steadily rise
But Lord knows false prophets are destined to die
YOU ARE READING
Benedict
EspiritualThe founder of the Benedictine order was a figure shrouded in shadow and wildly woven stories that seem surreal.
