I know you are a rewarder of faith.
I know you reward those who diligently seek your face.
Wherefore, I am still poor; I am still alone?
Was it that I had not sought you?
I know without a doubt you are God...
Therefore, I know without a doubt I have sought you
With what I have, and with every moment of my life.
I have held onto you like Jacob had...
Abraham was buried in the grave, bought from Ephron the Hittite---
Abraham who lived from ~2023BC to 1848BC;
The Hittites in Anatolia at the beginning of the Second Millenium,---
Moses writing the book, and Joshua yet had conquered the land.

The compliment is cheery,
But then the thoughts grow dreary,
To think, "Ah I am this, so I will!"
Yet, the State of its being
Is what it is, regardless of thinking
So continue in the thing you once did.
For our world is full of liars
Who think, "Just because I will I'm wiser ,"
They will upon reality what they will.
Therefore, so you don't end up dead
Do the things according to what's real instead.

I have  a heart, not a PhD's acumen---
I am a poet not a scholar,
For in my heart is the laude of Love.
I write an ode to every Prelude
That Desire and Philoi
Are the songs I sing...
Imbued in my tongue is the kiss of life.
It is apricot and apple; honey and tea,
I cannot write or constrain myself to reason
But must make my thoughts profound and lovely.
For I am not a noisy gong, trapped in passionless
Embers put out by the quenching of a spirit
Quaffed  by Academic vacuums.

You think about Quidditch in human terms
It doesn't make much sense.
But you think of it in Wizard terms,
It puts Harry in the center of the game--
Where now Harry is the center of the plot.
It is a symbol, that Harry is the most important
Player out on the field, therefore the novels.

Not only that, in a Quidditch Game,
It's like Lacrosse, which can score 15 points
In 90 minutes. Scoring in Quidditch can be 10 points
So in 600 minutes--a short game of Quidditch--
An average score for a short game of Quidditch 
Would be about 500 points.
Add to that, the Seeker doesn't always want to find the Snitch
As it could result in their team losing the match,
So there's the added obstacle of the other Seeker 
As well as the crafty snitch.
And games can last about 80 hours
With Wizards in their supernatural long lives
And magical endurance.

All in all, it's a proper game for Wizards--near immortals--
To play.

What concerns me, is the average reader pooh poohing it
Because they don't think outside of the box.
You don't read a novel, to try and defeat its author;
You read it, and try to vindicate the author
As you might just find they thought about it more than you do.

Mr. Bonhoeffer, what would you do,
If your fellow man were like Hitler?
If every person you met, were like him?
This is the current age I live in,
And while reading your words
I am angered over a heretic, but mistaking him as you.

You do not understand the domain of hell
And why it exists, until you see the depths of evil
Plummeted by the people around you.
However---you lived in an evil time, too.
How, my brother, am I to love the loveless?
How am I to have mercy on the merciless? 
How am I to have amnity toward a people whose joy
It is, to suffer, and cause suffering for all by their hedonism?
To strangle with their cruelty all the good out of the world?

I do not exaggerate my calling...
This is how evil the people of my generation are.
So... while I respect your soft spoken word
This world needs discipline.

While I am a sinner too---
That is the gospel, that I can be saved.
And you preached repentance, did you not?
What of a world who hates the very word?
What of a world who hates me,
A Christian? Do not the Amalekites need to be destroyed?
Did not the Nazis need to be slaughtered?
I'm afraid I cannot be soft spoken,
For fear of these men's souls.
For if there is no fear of God in them,
They must have fear; for the heretic was wrong.
There is indeed a place of eternal torment
And rightfully, I understand the hearts who deserve it
And mine being one of them at a previous hour
Was transformed by Grace, so I know there is yet hope.

Like Hitler, he meticulously makes his formulae.
He crafts his novel for the generation at once.
He tells me to "Exhaust all literature"
Gladly, for at least I had done work
And gave something of myself...
Not a hollowed out shell of cruel marketing.

Alexander, rage that you cannot take the city.
March your forces, gain the Sidonians and Greeks
As your naval allies, and scrape the foundations
Of the city, and build your ramparts to the walls.
Fight the bloody war, and resist all adversity
Even the Nile Dragon's rage, who crashed upon
Your earthen path; Leviathan raged, and rammed
The rampart, as the arrows of Tyrish foes rained.
For Satan Himself wished to cause an end to prophecy.
Yet, Alexander, you prevail over them with your wit
And make two breaches---though your men are burned
With oils and hot sands cast down from the walls
You enter in, and slaughter the city to its sum
So it is never inhabited again, save by shepherds and goat herders.

A cruel world we live in,
A thousand women to one
Are going to love me,
Yet the LORD causes the lot to fall.