An Empty Cross

Now the altar has ripped
The pages off the holy writ
And has forced it down
The throats of the thirsty pew.

They came like flock
On a pasture looking for water
To quench their thirst;
But have been given vegetable oil.

What is left of the Son
Is just an empty cross
Hanging or
Drawn on the massive walls
By a pagan artist.

The greasy haired preacher
With his imported accent,
Has stunned God again and again.

And in the chapel
Just like in a stinking cattle farm,
The cows are impenitently milked
And God looks on in utter shock.

3 thoughts on “An Empty Cross” by Idiong Divine (@Idiong_Divine)

  1. Nice story line,nice poem.keep it up and let your ink flow the more.

  2. The combination of metaphor, simile and imagery gives credence to your work.Great job tactfully created to educate your audience.Keep it up.

  3. I also love the use of metonomy in the alter: alter and pew meaning the preacher and listener respectively

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