GaslitByAMadman

Christian Refugee (For K. V. B)

Hair gold like a lioness,
Obscure, elusive poetess.
Ducking behind syllables,
Dodging responsibility,
Painting the canvas 
Like a crooked smile.

South African, Christian refugee,
Some welcome they get. 

Braving all kinds of chemicals,
Just for the Hell of it:

Making her life more difficult. 

Plush with anaesthesia and brutality,
Seeks sensitivity, and freedom from formality. 
Fiery preacher of nativity, of an imported proclivity,
A sublime religion of sad suicidal tendency:

Undermined and ripped off by plastic medicine.

Taught to fear truth so long,
Conscience clear sings siren song. 

Resilient like a phoenix,
From the ashes of last night’s self-immolation, 
Two thousand years spiritual immigration.

With kindness still in her nature.
But is there still fight left in her aegis? 

She’ll need it now – and for the duration. --

Quietly, we pray.

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