O Bad Shepherd

 

O Bad Shepherd

 

Where have the tender congregations gone?

Their pastors turn from shepherding,

Seeking new powers not divine,

But worldly and vile.

Deceptions and distortions abound,

Wrapped in syruped language:

The sweet that eats the soul.

Now there is a hollow in the flock

And the hate is poured in;

A fire that heats recklessly,

Consuming reason.

Now the gulf expands,

Spite will now not suffice,

Falsehood is become a tease.

Malevolence and rancor,

Both feeding and devouring,

These are what is given

Until the host is changed forever.

A lunatic sycophant

Forged from easy plastic,

And just as pliant,

And just as brittle.

Numberless they count themselves,

Staring into mirrors they themselves hung,

Hearing the rebound of their own voice,

And counting these companion.

Ravenous now for sweeter meat,

They are fed ever more corruption,

More fetid, less nourishing,

Malodorous and wormed,

They grasp at these nuggets,

Famished for any substance,

And receiving empty fantasy for their pains.

Still, they beg their masters for more,

And worse, they blame as they are told,

For the fire is in them,

And it must burn.

It must burn.

They must burn.

They were always expendable.

They will burn.

 

Cliff Lake 6/16/2023

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023