Thursday, June 25, 2009

Another Poem by John C. Nichols

Prophet's Payday
John C. Nichols

Gazing across the empty field,
mocking words always seem
to fill his inspired brain.
Those broken bones hung out to dry
can never give a reason..
they always bring him tears.

Mind traveling faster than warp speed,
that unfailing youth feels his passion;
in the spreading silence does he kneel.
Cornered and caged,
the wretched man cries.

Longing for peace unseen,
the prophet’s eyes brightly burn.
Will they not listen?
Will they not walk
the tortuous path
that leads Paradise?

Will they not look?
not glimpse eternity?
Will they simply
tag along with all the rest?
Or will they wake up
and smell the promise of flowers?

Will they notice life
is a derailed affair,
lost within corrosive speech,
without a tongue to speak,
without purpose, without heart?
A world lost without the One
whom the prophet hails?

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