There should be a religion that uses this poem as their Our Father! “Judgement,” by Oldepunk at ramjetpoetry.

RamJet Poetry


Be home before dawn, she said

but she forgets my insolence

plastered upon my skin

like moisture in monsoon

I glide, purposeful

waking in my wake

the aspirations of the none

with quiet spells of assumption

forging disillusion for the prideful

the gifts I bring are a curse you know

I pull the winners into the lands

of the sorrowed

culling the shameful with frost

and fears of tomorrow

I am that which you seek

and fail to find

I wield the might which you wish

to bring against the walls

of your enemies

As I dance over the winded nights

and into your dreams I send

my frights.

I am the lost and stolen

they seek revenge for all

the petty insults and minor injustices

you have wrought

She knows that I seek mischief

and at times she takes what I give away

for that is her way, to…

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