Altar Call

I knelt before the altar of
Our Lady of the Virgin Whore
Who stood there poised above me
A burning bush, a flaming sword
Frozen above, fire below
Burning passion at its center
Trespass at your own risk those lips
All ye who dare to enter

This night thy soul is required of thee
I'm pretty sure I heard her say
Flesh was willing, the soul was weak
And thus I trespassed anyway
Words of a self-appointed goddess
As though some holy declaration
Is this baptism by fire or
Just a willful self-immolation?

Of all misgiven promises
In your self-proclaimed divinity
Oh, my wannabee madonna
Why hast thou forsaken me?

So bring ye all your offerings
To Our Lady of the Virgin Whore
The self-effusive prophecies
Poison for the soul and nothing more
The tongue which spake those words so sweet
Chained me to her altar floor
The fruit of sweetness tasted there
Eating at my core

It is not love that she desires
It is the power that she craves
It is the shallow soul required
For worship from a shallow grave
Eyes somewhere near those shallows
Sunlit lagoons shine with desire
Listen closely to the drowning pools
This night, of thee, thy soul required

Of all misgiven promises
In your self-proclaimed divinity
Oh, my wannabee madonna
Why hast thou forsaken me?

 © John Kennan 12-12-20