I took gentle strides and flawless steps; mischievous purpose of this deranged circus;
their hands closed in this circle, gaunt faces squinting and lips puckered for a sure kiss.
The faces countered by the smooth surface of ponds and murky bogs of a huge sum,
in their lavish decorum, tainted flesh painted best with scarlet, crimson, and rubicund.
Head bent hell-wards, my soul bent in a U-turn, my hands stuck in lint-filled pockets…
I’m not identical to my brethren, a cold cult destined for heaven, with gaunt sockets,
Climbing through the sky in a snow-colored rocket, on the peak of Mount Olympus…
another shepherd leading a flock of chickens, with their sullen faces all panic-stricken.

“And I stand before you today, not as a savior but as a messenger,” intoned Tempter,
another voice that appeals to my temper, as I walk with my gnarled mahogany scepter.
Hood drawn to conceal my countenance, I observe the crowds of the praying mantises,
sipping from the tainted chalice, in a communion to taste the flesh of malignant chances.

“So much illogical talk, so many confusing terms to remember, isn’t it all so confusing?
Appealing to the masses, maybe,” here I snorted at the hypocrisy Hades was cooing…

Humans, certainly a shoe-in, easily distorted and bent to His whim at the long Babel.
Holding the candle that licked his fiery temper, now laced with sweet honey and maple,
He was their Hermes, their Moses, etching his ten commandments in their mind’s slabs.

Tempter addressed the saps, “You can be changed this fast,”(now, here he snapped…),
“but remember, as long as your unending loyalty to his majesty remains in effect now,
forever will you pay, simply, not by your cash but by that sweat plastered to your brow.”
Catchy slogan, I remarked inaudibly, my voice noticeably laced with venom and scorn…
but now I leave this sworn propaganda, and between the pews are the mark of my horns,

In the House of the Desperate.