The Dying Saint: A Sacred Poem

by Cosmic Poet Simon Pole

Trans Solar World Battery image by Joe Haput CC BY-SA

The Dying Saint

This is the counsel I bequeath:
To let the sword rust in its sheath,
And leave the coal upon the grate
And let it not incinerate
The meagre huts where heathens dwell,
We must not carry with us hell.

We bring the water and the care,
And not the disapproving stare
That says you’re wrong and I am…