The Contrite Prophet

Ritual pyres burn hot upon Silver Mountain.

Compassions friend, charity lies in the smoldering coals.

Jubilant dark masses circle the pyres golden flames.

Contrite now is the silent prophet which is to whole the blame.

He was silent when they hung sweet mercy from the tree.

Empathy and charity remained; yet hope quickly did flee.

One by one the darkness gathered the last vestiges of love.

The silent and now contrite prophet ignored the call from above.

Devilish laughter rang out all across the land.

Destruction of all that was ever good is now in hand.

Dark clouds of despair filled the once graceful blue sky.

Now the silent prophet rent his clothes and began to cry.

Yet no one heard him, no one even cared.

For gone were all the virtues that humanity once shared.

And now a bitter coldness settled across the land….

J. Allen Wilson © 1-2008