by Jedidiah Fleming
I have no desire to read of your ancient scrolls and books
That teach the control of man.
What need have I, truly, of power and covetous looks
While so briefly in this land?
Speak not to me either of your ornate building schemes,
For into shifting sands they sink.
Bring to me not that which fades like morning dreams;
I want no more of that drink!
I know about you, too, Pharisees and teachers of the law;
Teaching them fear for a fee!
Truly, there is far more wisdom of which to stand in awe
Written in the grain of a tree.
I want you to know, old devil, right here and right now,
I care nothing more for your cries.
But I’ll tell them the truth, and of this I will vow:
The wise will see through your lies.
For the truth and its glory, I’ll seek and I’ll sing
The wonders of the Mysteries;
And with Spirit as my guide, we shall righteously be
The Victors of the Histories!