Category: A Poem
I cried one eve to the open sky,
“My God, what’s the condition of my soul?”
And in the stillness of the night
a voice heard I:
“The whole head is sick, even the heart,
and the very bones all rotted, diseased.
Depravity and death shall stalk you
all the days of your life,
for you have chosen
a path of darkness rather than light.”
And following this burden of words
there was silence.
Was I foolish, then, to not be still?
Rising up, I spoke once more.
“Is there yet another answer to my cry?
I wish a second opinion.”
Just then, the grasses gave a shudder
and a man sauntered forth
these words to utter:
“Did you ask, my friend, the condition of your soul?
Would I be out of line to keep my observations brief?
I have little time to suffer fools
who care so much for worlds
to come when present glories crown this age
with pleasures, pinnacles and pins
to prick the paper paupers’ sins.
What is it from which you seek relief?
Away! My word to you is Hail the Coming King
whene’er he comes, that is,
but don’t be caught up in that fizz
while all that was and isn’t is,
if you get my drift. Know what I mean?
This path of patter is mighty keen
to those throwing caution to the wind.
I know, you’ve sinned. But who has not?
You’ve gotta get it while you can;
strike while the iron’s hot.”
With that the devil bid adieu,
and my heart’s condition, then, I knew.
Originally published at ennyman.com.