Abraham's affair with Hagar seethes in your veins,
As you wish to create a morally perfect world
And sterilize it of the Apiru People's mark
You hate Islam, and Judaism, and want Greek Christianity
Saying "Jacob was a sinner," But cannot know...
No... you cannot know... Jacob was used by God.
God hated the elder, but showed favor to the younger.
And you rage at Rebekkah who told her son
To wear the woolen gloves, and slaughter a lamb.
A lamb, Aryan, a lamb, like Christ, to cover our sins.
It is the thing, as Nebuchadnezzar said,
You cannot know, for you only half believe, Aryan.
You only half believe.

To prove the way a prayer's answer
Is given, I, a word, will speak
Today, this full bodied thought.
The snow, meant to come and bluster,
Would make the wagon's wheels be cold
On route to work in morning's day.
Yet, the white blanketed land made
By a fresh snowfall, is found fay
When the snow falls on Winter's eve.
Thus, confounded, on which to want
I prayed anxiously for no snow.
Yet, the snow it came, and melted
Leaving its frost upon the knolls,
But all the paths safe to travel,
I realized how a prayer finds ans.
So, as I write my work, my poems,
I woke to see the snow so fond,
A prayer is answered thus, so pray;
Lay at thy Savior's feet alone,
And see to have your prayers one day.

And then the next day, I see the 
Foot race down the bare, frozen path.
I see myself moved against it
While the runners busily haste.
How it is, they hasten to wrath
Busily upon their highway
Doing their vain activities
While I suck the marrow from the
Forest, enjoying snow once laid
For me, for that too is like prayer.
Though fat and bulbous and ugly,
I understand what they cannot.
They run for beauty, health and wealth.
I carefully another way
Will walk, paced at my Savior's side
Knowing one day all beauty shall be mine.

I talk to you again, oh Aryan...
Again I talk to you, and you claim 
David and Abraham are sinners.
"I do not follow men."
Do you not? While you proclaim
Only the Four Gospels are divine?
You wish to become a god,
And deem yourself wise and perfect.
But, you have no knowledge.
For you even defend the Philistines.

The seafarer’s Sheltie, climbed onto the Oyster Star
To be taken to a far away land;
Her rider, the captain, maiden Gwen’s bars
Would let aught know she was not a man.

I tried my best, but I don’t know if this is going to be a good one or not. I think the terminology I used was too obscure. It was a Prompt on Quora. Lol.

So beautiful you are, a Rose,
Singing of your ancestors
And their Lesbian pain.
Your face like my beloved
Kindred's; why do you
Beautiful rose, abandon
The Male for what is gross?
What is Lesbian pain,
Is that you cannot carry
Forth your seed in its kind
And will have no ancestors.
You cannot merge with your counterpart
Save by cruel science.
I give this Pastoral advice
As a poet too, though grandesque
I am not able to be...
But subdued passions
In my poetry, I ask you again...
Why do you abandon him?

I can hardly think of a peace more prosperous
Than the peace I enjoyed for 20 years.
No other time in history was like it.
And I'm wondering, if that wasn't it...

Maybe not. Maybe there will be a newer peace
Like that of Rome's, where everyone subsists
Off of rape, gladiatorial games, sodomy and robotic worker/sex slaves.
And Stipends.

The Proverb says, "Not a wise man except in every thousand;
"And not a woman among these."
What determines a wise man?
Logos does.

Thus, a woman who has it,
Ought she not teach?
Though very rare, for sure,
Rarer than a man.
But still...

No, it’s the same reason why Jackson Pollock is patronized. There’s thousands of artists much better and more talented. It’s politics, my friend. Nothing more. A way to scare the worker bee to make more honey, by devaluing art and culture, and turning them into a product for consumption and mass production. The worst is always promoted to the top. In everything. Music, Art, Entertainment. It’s just the way they want it. Until even Soccer disappears, and all people have is a dirt crusted hovel, and a job at the factory. If even that. They may just collect empty stipends all day, and consume bad propaganda as entertainment, like they do in North Korea and China.

See you crush their innate sense of beauty, and their innate sense of meaning, with Postmodernism, they can’t form correct conclusions. Then you destroy their education, and don’t teach them how to read, they can’t question you. Then you control them, and they don’t know they’re being controlled.

It’s not a conspiracy, either. It’s just the way the lemmings are marching. By all means, there’s no Kabal of masterminds trying to orchestrate this, unless it’s by some demonic intelligence. It’s just how people are natured to walk. They do that of their own accord, because they want the oppression, and the freedom from the responsibility to think and create. I don’t know why… but at some point it’s just going to get that way.

The “You” there, is not Globalists, but the spirit of the air. The principality that rules the people’s minds and conscience. It’s not going to be good for anyone, elite or poor. It’s just what they are doing. Both working together to create the situation where that happens. For what ends, I don’t think they even know. Either elite or poor. It’s just the way they want it. Both of them.

I come to you, my new friend, and ask you "Why is sorrow a sin?" When Jesus says "Blessed are those who mourn?" In many things we're in agreement. I, a prophet on the couch, read you--though a little luxury is good, but not too much--I'm refreshed by your homilies. Christ let the apostles pluck the finest grains.

I do not designate you as scripture, but like Pilgrim's Progress, edifying information for the soul, which much of what you write is like a glass of cold water to my thirsty soul---for I desire righteousness, and I'm wearied by a Christianity that doesn't.