Lord of the Flies

 

In darkness dropped the war’s own dead,

A message from the outside world.

Still all ignored what Simon said,

Of parachute to wind unfurled.

He ran with truth inside his chest,

To free them from that fear, unknown.

But when he came all had regressed,

Corruption reaped what it had sown.

On hands and knees he crept inside,

The circle closed around him grim.

With fervent anguish loud he cried,

Too late to save their souls from sin.

A murdered martyr turned the tide,

By rain and thunder as he died.

To wash his blood into the earth,

From dust to dust, it gave him birth.

Like Simon Peter, Ralph denied,

With God’s words, Simon, crucified.

 

 

Shalom,

Ted Porter