We hid him.
The poor man.
His existence challenged our comfortable lives.
A prophet speaks out.
The vipers take him out, on our wicked behalf.
We say, “not in our name”, but… How can the prophets compassionate humanity be tolerated when it challenges us this much?
Like trees with no fruit our true colours show.
We store up.
Moth and rust still win.
The grass withers and the leaf fades.
A puff of smoke, a vapour.
This to shall pass.
The empires crumble and fall.
Even the ecclesiastical tyrants meet their maker.
The rich shall inherit the grave.
Earth is for the others.
