THE FALLACIOUS COMING (An Original Poetry ➕ Prose)

in #poetry5 years ago (edited)

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IMAGE SOURCE; You will know the timing of the Rapture

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PRELUDE; STORY


There was a loud wail outside the diocese and a strong crazed wind was starting to clanging the doors. ....."On that day we shall...." The priest bawled, totally perplexed but the booming cacophony of thunder just inside the aisle stopped him unprepared and abruptly as he lost balance he clutched to the altar with one hand and held onto the his cassock with the other hand. And on the pew the dazed and scared parishioners scrambled as the scattered and docked seeking succor behind the church chairs. The sky became gloomy like a gale was coming and it seems the sun took a long time out from it's job of illuminating the world, although it was just eleven o'clock in the diocesan premises it was only illuminated as if the days was 7:30PM the starts started appearing outside and in between the melee which the strong wind is causing, the priest rose from the floor behind the pulpit where be was taking cover and headed for the door, he chimed the gigantic bell just before the water basin by the door with all his might and scrawled to look at the stars that choose to appear in the daytime, the night that appeared in the day "I'll be damned" he bellowed with a contorted smile, this time as he was about walking back to the altar, a billion piercing sound of horn started blaring, it was like sounds emanating on everything electronically enabled inside and outside the diocese building and this sent the congregation crashing further to the floor, but this time, the priest wasn't perturbed as he strode the the podium, took a deep breath and began in an post apocalyptic tone;

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THE FALLACIOUS COMING (POEM)


Watching wearily? ye watchers?
The omens are in the offing
the soughted one is at the door,
rise from the humbled floor,
see, the seas plaguing your eyes,
and drowning your courage
will be forgotten like yesterday's meal
salvation abides on the thresholds


Are your hearts sparkling,
as wool dipped in winter's stew?
or scarlet as crimson in a strawberry's pool?
It's time to take the untainted ones
free from the transgressions of the flesh,
are your conscience pricked in fear?
that the reckoning day has beckoned?
brethren the pulpit speaks
speaks doom of quavering souls
bereft of hope and salvation


Your life's hour glass is upturned,
like a kerb abandoned on eclectic course
you're clothed in nakedness
and the revealing the tenebrousity
concealed
within the murkiest places
illuminated amidst the winged ones
you shall shudder in bewilderment
and the grizzly ones will snatch your gut
taking turns to consume you


The adjudication day is a moment away
and gravity shall die the death
the saints locked away shall upsurge
into the creamy clouds
opened up like a whale's within
and we shall be freely captured
captured into firmament's milky essences
of something the mind has no inkling of

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IMAGE SOURCE; | Aaron Priest Photography

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Written & Edited

By @Josediccus

9/10/2018


Visit my blog for more amazing poems & content

JOSEPH C.IKECHUKWU






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Great post, very insightful indeed.

This is a lovely poem which is well garnished with figures of speech.
I love the pictures it paints in the mind of the readers.
This poem also is full of rhetorical questions which make the readers to reread the poem again.

Well penned!!!

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