The silent supernatural

“Unintended ruination,” he said. 

Justified, the Serpent smiles triumphant. 

When conscience speaks believe the lie instead— 

The Sp’rit withers in the wind, redundant. 

The fields in anger disbelieving cry 

That god–in–flesh would ravage his domain. 

Silent, God–in–heaven strolls idly by 

While lazy halfwits claim the right to reign. 

The keening winds foretell a coming time 

When those held in contempt shall have no voice, 

When man, when summoned, answers for his crime: 

Twisting wisdom and collusion by choice. 

Man’s desecration verifies his breed. 

“Come Lord Sloth,” he prays, “in my hour of greed.” 

Prior to make first breakdown, I had never (to my knowledge) met anyone who appeared as a dove but beneath was a viper.