Feast of Lona
Over the valley descended legions of dragonflies
Sent forth to part the Skeeter cloud
Throughout the fields came curdling cries
The reign of blood vanquished from the skies.
Parsing through the crimson sea of carnage
Grateful on this field for their merciful deed
Who could discern the Master's hand?
How His dragoons today would feed.
Eek from the crumbs below the tables
Upon the heights over the finest gables
Fly the armies of Lazarus above fertile ground
Deaf to pleas to please send a prophet down.
Not even the dogs lingered to lick the wounds
As the streams to Lona leeched a dull red
The dragonfly bands obscuring a waning moon
As the host of heaven from Lona were led.
l
No comments:
Post a Comment