Praise, the Conquest of Hell


Thou, O Lord Incarnate and Mighty, which impales
on bait hooks all the evil worms below the decks
in fire-rotted hell
awful, knee-harrowing
hades, where their worm dieth not,
where darkness crushes deceivers’ souls
and they are packaged into cakes of dung
then sold to the lowest bidder
their branches cast
into the ripping flames
like the 6 o’clock lies
sent to the shredder
an amnesiac enjoying the moon
for the sun

The righteous bend of the mountain,
merging the clouds of heaven with whiffs of myrrh.
The merging of divine oxygen and brassy fanfare
the touch of His glorious pointers
inculcating life
illumining the path through gold-frosted pines
and ancient stones
Thy goads of right scripture;
setting forth parable and adage
each step of the new life beckons,
ascending through the sorrows of dark hearts.

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About Pete Mladineo


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