To the hands of our Creator
debt repaid in sacrifice,
Hail Great Annihilater!
Lord of virtue,Lord of Vice
Is is widom, is it fate
or are we slave to our device?
Search the skies for higher powers
can he really hear our cries?
Churches built on bones of faithful
Lies beheld of paradise
Papal promises of later
Souls as sold to men and mice
Holy Father,
know what I have done
Earth my Mother,
bury thy son
To the hands of our Creator,
debt repaid in sacrifice
Hail Great Annihilator!
Lord of virtue, Lord of Vice.
Is it wisdom, is it fate
or are we slaves to our device?
Search the skies for higher powers,
Can he really hear our cries?
A contest entry
- The Unholy by ILikeChocolateMilk.
600 points, ended September 28, 2007, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Great take on the prompt for the contest very good poem it is well compoased
-
Stilly child,
stop calling to a thing that doesn' exist.
Anyway, this was a really.. chilling write, and too true in my opinion.
Great job
-Danneh
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