Divine Service
With the choir’s hymns
guiding my steps, I enter
this sin-plagued society to share
Christ’s love with the world
A sky depressingly gray,
gray as ashes, ashes from
a crematory, a crematory
where all sinners should be
burned, burned because God
is too slow to do it himself-
a sky like this above me.
These streets should be quarantined.
What Godless filth!
From the temptation I abstain
and find those whom are in need.
With a cardboard sign and tin can
at his feet, a man lay sprawled
on the sidewalk-a liquid nap
induced by his best friend Jack.
So tragic but I have the trick.
From the can I take the change
so he can change, and not find
himself in the same position soon.
Doors of a mortuary open, releasing
a woman sorrow drowned.
My neighbor is in dire need.
“Grace me with your body,” I say,
“And I’ll grace the deceased with a prayer.”
Surely she’s a whore; better a prayer
rendered than heartache for her sins.
She later confessed to never hearing
such beautiful supplication to God.
The sun was gone when I stepped
through my front door.
And so was I.
This work of the Lord is exhausting.
As my head hit the pillow
I was already dreaming.
But not mere human dreams, no!
Dreams of angelic proportion,
dreams fit Moses, Daniel or Isaiah.
Through rolling black clouds
A ball of fire erupted, with thunder
God spoke, commanded me.
In an instant it was over;
in an instant I was out of bed,
out the door, onto my mission.
Soon I would fulfill my duties,
would have God’s smile of approval.
A seat in Heaven will be reserved for me, for me!
I found my target. Unsuspecting.
Back to me. Face to the floor.
And the knife shined brilliantly,
beautifully as God used my hand
to spill sinner’s blood.
A moan.
I stabbed again, again.
My duty fulfilled as he
Feebly prayed to his God for survival.
guiding my steps, I enter
this sin-plagued society to share
Christ’s love with the world
A sky depressingly gray,
gray as ashes, ashes from
a crematory, a crematory
where all sinners should be
burned, burned because God
is too slow to do it himself-
a sky like this above me.
These streets should be quarantined.
What Godless filth!
From the temptation I abstain
and find those whom are in need.
With a cardboard sign and tin can
at his feet, a man lay sprawled
on the sidewalk-a liquid nap
induced by his best friend Jack.
So tragic but I have the trick.
From the can I take the change
so he can change, and not find
himself in the same position soon.
Doors of a mortuary open, releasing
a woman sorrow drowned.
My neighbor is in dire need.
“Grace me with your body,” I say,
“And I’ll grace the deceased with a prayer.”
Surely she’s a whore; better a prayer
rendered than heartache for her sins.
She later confessed to never hearing
such beautiful supplication to God.
The sun was gone when I stepped
through my front door.
And so was I.
This work of the Lord is exhausting.
As my head hit the pillow
I was already dreaming.
But not mere human dreams, no!
Dreams of angelic proportion,
dreams fit Moses, Daniel or Isaiah.
Through rolling black clouds
A ball of fire erupted, with thunder
God spoke, commanded me.
In an instant it was over;
in an instant I was out of bed,
out the door, onto my mission.
Soon I would fulfill my duties,
would have God’s smile of approval.
A seat in Heaven will be reserved for me, for me!
I found my target. Unsuspecting.
Back to me. Face to the floor.
And the knife shined brilliantly,
beautifully as God used my hand
to spill sinner’s blood.
A moan.
I stabbed again, again.
My duty fulfilled as he
Feebly prayed to his God for survival.