The Faith Chronicle: Our Father

Blasphemy echoes from your lips andangel (2)
Drowns in oceans of red, surging creatures
Crawl from underworlds to watch the
Resurrection of our lord, and saviour,

Thorns slit skin and veins weep in weak
Resistance, counting the sins on fingers
As they delicate remove appendages
Before the wooden station at the

Base of the rusted gate, tempting fate
to nail frustrations to your bones, fire
burns and smoke smothers, taunted
by brethren, mothers urge the truth to

shatter from your broken limbs, dragged
between grotesque statues, lead feet
and heavy head, none will grant mercy,
the dead shall rise from their graves,

with ghostly eyes, sip mass from the
souls, cries fall on deaf ears, no one
hears over the striking thunderstorm,
and rolling skies, folding infant’s in

the grey, catching demise like fireflies
luring prey to their den, deaths hounds
waiting to be fed, teeth gleaming in grave
anticipation, torn skin and spirit are hoisted

to the station, a mocking figure, a warning
to all, billowing in the violent wind He stands
over skeletal remains, a face like an angel
morphed to something else, the howling

increases as He raises his pale smooth hands,
horns creak to the side, lizard tongue licks
chapped lips and eyes that pierce the soul
dart quickly over an enthused crowd, proud
their father has returned, All Hail, they scream,
All Hail Lucifer.

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