sheep and ghosts

look how they graze on Rhine,
cutting their teeth on the wise.
what has come of
the assembly?

could you show them way, syncretist?
they skin all that is holy
from these transient spirits.
crass perception shows its lagging grin;
lore told of how it's wide enough to grip.

yield to his surname;
use caution in your steps
as you stray from the rest.
"bastard motives abandoned,"
peruser said,
taking sides with the rest.
had we witnessed guilt like this before,
we'd have dismissed the dreams inside our heads.

the man of the cloth
is now baring his skin.
he spines to your door,
begging to be let in.
worship the midwest christ
while you invest in your vice.
whose assignment was he supposed to be?
whose blatant treason was this?
here he lies now,
assassinated by his own cavalry.