Do you hear the prophets?
They still call from the tomb
Can you hear them in your car?
Surrounding sounds in your room
Not that they know it
They all play their part
From the heart the mouth speaks
It's a work of art
Hidden in the lyrics of a song
Told in a joke
Truth speaks loudly
From many a folk
Although muzzled, he knows how to play
Some hear his voice
Some go astray
But the prophets are calling, out from the grave
And if they are true?
You should listen to what they say
Not that we have much to boast
It's more like Sodom, and we're the toast
Treading with caution, holding the tongue
Listening carefully, for the one
False prophets, angles of light
Little children
The nursery is bright.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 2nd, 2025 08:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments5
Most hopefully the future is bright for those in the nursery. A warning poem nicely written
Most of the children's predictions come true, but the ending is hilarious and warms my heart.
Those with ears are able to listen and those with ash are able to see, but the Spirit quickens! Bright lights indeed… these are the days…
Great write
An intriguing write, love the way the words flowed throughout.
Thank you.
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