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W. ROCK OF AGES





There once was a bastion of the faith, a Cephas

Of the resolve of stone.

Truer than an arrow; a son of lightening and thunder;

Children believed in his word

Like a voice of many waters that

Floods the mind with promise of fulfilled desires.

There was a megalomaniac voice to be heard

Upon his bully pulpit and

In the lairs and intuitional asylums of hallowed shouts.

Was heard the fears that only those in the dark understand.

Piled up arsenals amassed would not his fear allay

In the hallowed conservative domains of compassion;

Where mother’s milk dried upon the parched rock

And upon this stone was built the new church

Of forced hegemony; of insinuation pronounced

Upon the clueless masses

That imbibed, swallowed, and recreated new fear

That would withstand the rock of ages