The Plague

I have seen a world beyond our own,
A realm that angels still call home,
A place where wild animals still roam
and majestic tress still grow
In ageless, untouched, beauty of which
The Devine, indeed, would find me remiss,
If not to compare it with true loves’ first kiss.

A place of such grace to cause men to weep,
As if a loved one closed their eyes for eternal sleep;
With rolling plains that keep the benevolent beauty arcane
And make me believe God himself had ordain
It made as immaculately magnificent as his own domain.

I look at such serenity and fall to a knee,
As I am weakened in wonder by an unworldly deity,
And invite you to secede and flee
To see this sea of tranquility
As if seen in a half-forgotten dream.

But I must refrain,
No matter how much in pain,
From allowing such a delicate domain
To be introduced to a plague no one can contain.

For in this beauty there is something amiss,
Perhaps the cause of such frivolity and bliss.
An infection, that most would agree without objection,
To be a blessing on the realm that won angels’ affection.

His vile disease will take hold and spread,
Making the kingly oak cower and beasts afraid to tread,
While leaving nothing in its stead
But the depraved, enslaved, and dead.

In its domination and castration of the population,
Through degradation and colonization,
This predator will force the entire world
Into assimilation of its new nation.

If you wish for the evidence of such a cancer,
You need only look to our world for the answer;
Listen to the trees mowed down by the panzer,
Or the agony of animals enslaved by a master;
Look to the once blue oceans discolored with oil,
Or find the radiation of Hiroshima in the soil.

Remember the bombs that hit Vietnam;
How they released relentless napalm
Exorbitant enough to embalm
All those caught in the maelstrom
Of a distant president’s pogrom
Who ponders whether to split a neutron
And usher in the ultimate, unsettling calm.

For this is the expertise of such a disease
That calls the world its own.
That takes no care of the place it takes
From angels who called it home;
And creates a storm that will transform
What the Almighty made from his throne.

But the omnipotent will not remain indifferent,
And in an act of deliberate cataclysmic belligerence,
He will soon recall his loan.

As even the benevolent Bodhi tree is conquered,
The beautiful beasts have been collared.
And any resistance has been harbored.
While total destruction is sponsored
Through the wholesale rape and pillage of God’s village,
By a plague that claims its lineage
To He who created them in His own
Immaculate, marvelous, and magnificent image.

This was a slam poem I wrote several years ago. It was an exploration of my diction and rhyme capabilities. That being said, I still like the message that I was able to get through. I hope you do too!



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