A smattering chatter
revealed the prophet
to be a fool – a beggar –
a panderer to fear –
for bread, mercy or
perhaps, if luck
ensued – loose coin,
too much a pittance
for counting.
And upon the city,
the Lord of Wraths,
expunged of fatherly
duties, crushed
upon his children,
the light that was
Beginning.
Acrid wheezings then
and fuming,
ascended the ramps
to heaven
and cast that demon out.
Image: Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
Devon, exacting imagery abounds in this ‘crisp’, sharp poetic achievement.
Thank you kind sir. I was uncertain about this piece. Thought I’d try and channel a bit of Blake in this irreverent piece.
D
It is a sincere pleasure, Devon.