Shout from the rooftops
those whispers in your ear
that schizos may speak
and their followers hear.
That nutcase Messiahs
and self-proclaimed Lords
may reign in the splendor
of ****** wards.
That demons be exorcised,
angels beheld,
and the Savior restore
what the Garden expelled.
That shepherds spin yarns,
flocks be well-fleeced
with no charlatan spared
from the reign of the beast.
Until virgins are satisfied
trimming their wicks,
and we see by that light
that we all need a fix.
a poem a day for NaPoWriMo2016
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www.connecthook.wordpress.com
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