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Passions in Poetry

The Mission

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The Mad Monk
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since 07-01-99
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0 posted 07-01-99 05:26 PM       View Profile for The Mad Monk   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for The Mad Monk

The Mission

Can the mission be spared while the foulest demons
From the shadows snarl and growl?
There is no morning coming.
No sun to force the evil back
Into the dark recesses…

The missionary shivers and prays
As spit flies from his lips…
God is but a cruel joke now.
His mind was frozen in foolish youth,

And he, the child who seeks protection,
Wields his sacred crucifix
Like a lowly pagan dagger
And sees the demons move into
The ever-shrinking ritual pattern.



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The Mad Monk
© Copyright 1999 The Mad Monk - All Rights Reserved
 
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