Enfleshed Evil, Part One

I have indeed
Encountered evil
In the holiest of places.

 Gnashing of teeth
Fueled by fear
By the faithful to a gospel
They personally
Not know yet.

Altars are lifted daily
To the gods of comfort
To the gods of power
To the gods of me and myself
To the gods of manipulation
And deceit.

The real altar’s veil
Was ripped
With edges stained in
 Righteous blood
Healing and wholesome.
Ready to pour out milk and honey sweet as can be.

Yet their worship were rituals
For placing smoke curtains
to keep all doped in a haze of uncertainty and confusion.
Any one halfhearted mastermind of mediocrity
can shepherd half-living sheep
Who no longer know when
they Feed or thirst.

 ©Copyright 2016 by #ir-reverend

When the Prophet Goes Mad

When the prophet goes mad
her tongue goes loose
and no matter whose
ear is in the way predictions,
curses, wishes and prayers
are summoned in one breath of smoke
consuming fire ablaze.

When the prophet goes mad
he finally speaks his heart
because his mind cannot keep
closeted truths that are meant to fly.

When the prophet goes mad
the earth shakes.
For the power behind her gift
cannot be contained
will not be subdued
 has never been idled
won’t accept anything
except what is required. 

When the prophet goes mad is
when he or she is most useful to God.

 ©Copyright 2016 by #ir-reverend