Self appointed prophet
Putting forth prayers and
Pamphlets as you tear
The room asunder --

No regard for mortals,
But you brush it off with
A smile so sweet, a touch
Of the arm and divine influence --
After all, it’s your duty

Hands raise in the air,
You plead us to join you,
To save our souls and
Get redemption in turn
For a half-hearted prayer

If searching souls and
Turning them pure is your
Mission, then dear Susan,
You need to face the mirror
To truly find God