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Roman Catholicism (A Glimpse At The Apocalypse)
Before the cross of two organs, they scrape their wounded knees,
Then chant their sacred blasphemies:
“Hail Madam,
Mother of harlots,
Full of abominations,
Dregs and lees...”
The tyrant, then raises his goblet,
Glittering, like the one his Mother drinks from;
Promising to save those in the inferno, for a price,
While thieves can never be trusted...
So what is there left to hope for?
They’d rather burn!
On his crown is inscribed his reality,
The blessed number: “6 6 6” -
But so carefully covered under it,
Where lips will never see,
The name they durst not eulogize, nor sanctify: Y-H-W-H.
Instead, they rejoice with “Rex tremendae majestatis.”
So he (Yahweh), and His Highest, Michael,
Along with every other one worthy of the numbers 7 and 12,
Gaze down upon the Dragon, who was hurled out
And now happily resides in Rome.
So they vomit at what they see,
Which is also seen, only by those of us with understanding eyes.
So, many traditions have rusted in the minds they polluted.
Multitudes now smell and taste Nimrod, who deceived them,
But florid windows will still smile on the outside
While on the inside, walls are cracking depressing smiles,
When the rafters will fall on his “holiness halls,”
With the ones fed not the Word, picking up stones...
And at last, somehow, somewhere, someway
Some see the light, arms open, feet in flight
As they scurry to the EXIT (rosaries left behind),
Which lights up, saying:
“BABYLON THE GREAT, MOTHER OF WHORES AND SMUT HAS FALLEN!”
Kyrie Eleison.
Then chant their sacred blasphemies:
“Hail Madam,
Mother of harlots,
Full of abominations,
Dregs and lees...”
The tyrant, then raises his goblet,
Glittering, like the one his Mother drinks from;
Promising to save those in the inferno, for a price,
While thieves can never be trusted...
So what is there left to hope for?
They’d rather burn!
On his crown is inscribed his reality,
The blessed number: “6 6 6” -
But so carefully covered under it,
Where lips will never see,
The name they durst not eulogize, nor sanctify: Y-H-W-H.
Instead, they rejoice with “Rex tremendae majestatis.”
So he (Yahweh), and His Highest, Michael,
Along with every other one worthy of the numbers 7 and 12,
Gaze down upon the Dragon, who was hurled out
And now happily resides in Rome.
So they vomit at what they see,
Which is also seen, only by those of us with understanding eyes.
So, many traditions have rusted in the minds they polluted.
Multitudes now smell and taste Nimrod, who deceived them,
But florid windows will still smile on the outside
While on the inside, walls are cracking depressing smiles,
When the rafters will fall on his “holiness halls,”
With the ones fed not the Word, picking up stones...
And at last, somehow, somewhere, someway
Some see the light, arms open, feet in flight
As they scurry to the EXIT (rosaries left behind),
Which lights up, saying:
“BABYLON THE GREAT, MOTHER OF WHORES AND SMUT HAS FALLEN!”
Kyrie Eleison.
Published 1st May 2020
Author's Note
Unpublished segment from a larger work. During the Reformation Martin Luther decried the Roman Church as the Antichrist, a devilish harlot, and Babylon. Later, the Calvinistic "Westminster Confession of Faith" condemned the Pope as Antichrist, and their Mass, equivalent to idolatry. For centuries, other Protestants have acquiesced, and Revelation became the bible’s favourite book. My poem cheekily illustrates all this.
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