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by Slim
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Other · #478751
More doggerel.
Wilder than thou I stand,
before the gleaming multitude.
They are sweat-slick head and hand
but I am clean and upright dude.

"You say you will follow me to hell!
but you fear your masters and your lord.
I will call you with my bell,
and you shall see how strong his sword."

With rhetoric this mass I sway,
to obey my greater call.
But will I aid them come the day
when they are summoned to my hall?

They are as sheep, feeling pains,
grazing on the grass I throw
at their ears to fill their brains
and when I'm done, will they know?

"My children, (for so thou art),
I will give to you his throne."
But when the days of ending start
they will build me a house of stone.
© Copyright 2002 Slim (sindexslim at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/478751-Preacher