Friday, September 18, 2020

The Pitching Sigil

 


     The lasting peccadilloes of magical symbols,

 signets of luring enchantment

     fall from the walls of Jericho resound the alarms of faith, 

allusions from Al-Aqsa

     begrudgingly separate Christianity, 

and the unending echoisms from Jerusalem foul

     afoot two-thousand years of ideology from some wooden decayed cross; 

all enamored 

     within mythology, now, a bestial glimpse of wars follow and 

record Christianity’s carnage, 

     trinkets of death align with the centuries in horrifical emblems, 

war eagles descent upon the 

     helpless, flaccid, and unarmed doves, the chronology of power, 

pushing out and replacing

     ideologies and one symbol as the only decorated truth, 

and the swells of time engulf every lie to hold fast 

     this golden fairy tale,  whilst sorcery impales 

the highest perjury upon some centuries-tokened wooden cross; 

     the knelt waste of money, propaganda, and time 

whirls through the cudgeled decadence to undermine

     one’s sacred freedom to liberate truth from mendacity. 


    - John Hardesty

©️ 9/18/2020



     

     


     

     

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