Canticle of the Sun

November 1, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | PETER'S WRITING | 1 Comment |

First Pope by Rubens

Sometimes only faith makes sense,

The soul tires, sat on the fence,

Balancing on the swaying timbers,

Dug into the dying cinders.

By Thierry Ehrmann

By Thierry Ehrmann

When the trope du jour is worn

Out, when recall that we were born

Comes, cast around a little more

In this wicked world, start searching for

A new design, another one

To shade the screeching soulless sun.



While on the sun, a modern trend

Yet all too old, the welcome end

Of time, shall serve as our device,

To inculpate all human vice.

GregorioXVISo Hail Mary! Spread the wealth,

Frack off! Cease digging coal by stealth,

Lights out – the bell for greed has rung

So burn that cash, then burn that dung.

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