Balaam

Some prophets never were saved.

Nietzsche, Yeats and Byron all wrote

Songs of what Earth would be

If no Christianity.

 

I don’t ask whether they rose

But that their spirits were wrong

That when they spoke war or peace

So they had a little yeast.

 

It would rise in bitterness;

It did rise angry at God.

Whether war or peace, they wrought

Bloodshed, for only blood’s bought

 

The foundation of reason.

Whether fairy or the gun

Men within themselves would catch

The trains to power; at last

 

They would, in all likelihood

Turn back to shaman with the

Blood of infants in their soup,

Whether or not they did coup.

 

I look at them to know aught

About my brothers gone wrong.

To have peace means right must win.

Right religion’s without sin.

 

That when Christ had brought the sword

It was good reason He did.

All other religions, sin’s

The core of their holy writ.