Sung a hymn of ecstasy, With wars’ uncivil horror hung
In the foreground, Forgotten Bromdun found
A fierce foe in Theodore Marmaduke. Theodore Marmaduke who found
The silver strings of Ephraim’s Sister, to succor the woe of Bromdun
To send to war and wan All men for the wasted wonton
Forms of eve which they Had all desired, every one.
Theodore Marmaduke enchanted His sister to entice her to array
Battle against Bromdun for A long forgiven bad.
Thus, sisterly love was lost And longing like the love of Hannai
Was found, to forge a fate So dire for Bromdun, that fasted
Him of his health and honor. Bromdon cried often, heard not
By any man, woman or foe. The silver strings on the sister
Of Ephraim ardently arrayed Such wrath against Bromdun
That the nation was wont to war For none knew Bromdun, whatsoever
But the nation was at a wonder How a summary fee would wax
To a felony. Forged in flagrant Hate, the fellows went to war with Bromdun
Yet, it was the silver strings Which made them so steamed.
Thus, the battle for the basic Rights of men for justice began
And women,—for wont was A woman to do what Bromdun did.
The sin a sin all are guilty of Bromdun sat idly, without simple work.
Yet, Theodore Marmaduke was That wicked soul who possessed
The poor loves of Bromdon’s pasture When youth was praised
And idyllic, where a sin singed it So sacrilegious.
For Pekah Avram Ephraim Was indeed that Theodore Marmaduke.
For the singe of Theodore Marmaduke Sought great salvos of arms
Across the fields of Gettysburg, Where armies arrayed fierce.
Bromdun could hear their horrors Just outside his house, yet none knew.
The war was open for all to see For it was a war of minds
To turn America into an Amazon’s Kingdom, amounted that Theodore
Sought to do this, for some strange Reason, though he was a strange woman
Who actually was a man. Theodore Marmaduke was a man in woman’s cloak.
Yet, the battlefield was wont to winnow The strange sounds of cannonades
Outside the windows of Bromdun’s Sunny house. So warped was
Everyone around him. Everyone knew nothing, for much blood avowed
That in this fictitious war fought, Much blood was spilled, and so many songs
Were sung of the American Revolution. Revolution, which Bromdun did not answer
But rather knew how a man held To great high standards hurt
When a lie made him a Joseph. Bromdun saw religion was really at stake just
Like the right for mercy, which made A great error on the part of men
To fight, when in fact, men need Only kneel to the LORD God, and forget
Their earthly woes. For Theodore Marmaduke Sought to destroy us, and malign
Everyone who was a man struggling with sin So as to make all men hide their sins.
“Men ought to have hidden their sins” So said Theodore Marmaduke, high
Upon his liar’s chair. Lewd and longing, Neighing for long standing bloodshed.
No, Bromdun did not know For sure what nasty things were done.
Rather, he simply wrote his odes Offered them not to Baal
But the LORD Jehovah, Jesus Gift from God.
For incense would not be offered to Baal And Bromdun wished the Assyrian would
Die from angelic sword, for this was Isaiah’s Vision against the Assyrian.
For mercy is the main part of our faith. Mercy,—and when decided we deserve more
And merit mercy on our own word, We deserve the fate of malignant damnation.
Bromdun would say, “Do not fight, sirs and gentlewomen.”
For, fighting is Bromdun’s worst fear. Let the fight be forgotten
And in the laws, vote out the last Remnant of this legalistic lasciviousness.
For laws encompass mercy; They encompass justice.
For both are written in God’s laws. Yet, know, that Ephraim’s sister
Was under the spell of Pekah Avram Ephraim,
That Theodore Marmaduke.
For Theodore Marmaduke sought great woes To wan the faces of all men.
Believing himself to be a woman When in fact he was a man.
For, strange was he, That he had the manly flesh
But forged a lie so sour So as to reap the benefits of strife.
For, war profits Theodore Marmaduke For if lost, he can alight
And therefore loose all men from dignity. For a gamble can lose.
Very thing, war, is a gambit. Be patient; vote without gambling.
For men know this to be a nuisance, So knot nothing.
Leave nothing to chance Of arms, nare they win or lose
For wrath can stir permanent— So be sure of Isaiah’s vision.
B. K. Neifert 