Lichetting
i. Yelling of fire and brimstone gehennae
ii. Even as those outside starve and weep and die,
iii. Hands making hell while warning ‘gainst its judgments,
iv. Silent to the cries for the sake of vestments.
v. Useless to help while saying they shall impart,
vi. Slaving tribes with angels’ smiles and devils’ hearts,
vii. Killing millions while saying they’re the savage,
viii. Regarding not lands they for their pride ravage.
ix. If he were born today they would reject him,
x. Sohn Marias robed purposefully in sin,
xi. Tallying their wealth while he suffered the sick,
xii. Unable to reach that heavenly kinrick,
xiii. Since a camel could quicker enter the eye
xiv. Versus men with gold watches in suits and ties,
xv. And to brave the Gagulta of greed is more
xvi. Hard on the mind, which he alone could endure.
xvii. A better way he tried to show his children;
xviii. Nay, his ways were polluted by pompous men
xix. Seeking vain power in the name of their lord,
xx. Exclaiming that money moves the mind of God.
xxi. Horrid things done to innocents in the dark
xxii. Secretly hidden within their lavish arks,
xxiii. Vying for the good while covering their bad,
xxiv. A millstone round their necks justly to be had.
xxv. A brood of vipers marking the globe with scars,
xxvi. More like Yaldabaoth’s seed than Yehovah’s,
xxvii. Earning fees from their sheep whom they lead astray,
xxviii. Earning too their place in flame on judgment day.
xxix. No grace would they have for he they claim to know,
xxx. Vouching for him though they nailed him long ago,
xxxi. And he was the only true Christianos:
xxxii. How he would weep for the movement as it’s grown.
xxxiii. A treatment shows itself in sweeping reforms
xxxiv. Neesing out the filth, indulgences and norms,
xxxv. Sidhuhath Goyum of the West would be proud,
xxxvi. Eyeing the Church following what he espoused.
xxxvii. Hope for this will only come from the people,
xxxviii. Yinon’s true followers who’ll root out evil,
xxxix. And they’ll answer this ask with no lichetting:
xl. If he were here today, would they let him in?
A poem by Richard Junglenoodle.
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