Take my heart.
I cannot take it anymore!
I am sick with disgust.
Babylon's whore has filled her cup.
Her lovers, too, have filled their pockets and their plates.
Their folly on display while shamelessly they take.
My face stings with humility.
When is it I might look around and see not a single enemy?
Where are the carrion birds'
unfettered, feathered justice?
When will peace and love abound?
What hour will the trumpets sound?
Where are the horsemen?
And when will the cavalry come riding on the clouds?
Fully clad in armor, warding off all doubt.
Secure my footing for me - and do not let my lamp go out.
When will retribution come?
When will angels sing?
Where is the promised Kingdom?
Where is my precious King?
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Author:
Eulalie Ayers (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 23rd, 2022 10:52
- Comment from author about the poem: A piece stemmed from frustration.
- Category: Religion
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments2
Such a wonderfully penned, and heart-felt poem. Let us hope that our better angels are there, waiting for the moment when they will be heard and heeded.
Thank you for your kind words. ☺️
-Lolly
Though not a particularly religious man, the imagery this conjures and it’s emotive nature thrill me. A lovely poem!
Thanks Friend,
I think it might be one of the best pieces I have ever written. Toying around with poetry again these last few days (since registering with this site) I think I may want to get better acquainted with the rules and various types of expression and format related to the craft.
I appreciate your kind and supportive words. (Though, gentle critiques are always welcome too.) ☺️
-Best,
Lolly
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