Painted Tombs — a poem of war and peace
The Prince of Peace has won the war,
But they will not concede the floor.
A scourge upon the house of God,
Rejecting love, embracing fraud, they closed the door.
The sweetest buds they trampled down,
And granted to themselves a crown;
A blight besmirching Heaven’s air,
They laud themselves, tear others down, and call it prayer.
The outside walls they painted white
To hide the rotten bones inside.
They offer poison wrapped in sweets
And tell us that we have to eat or we will die.
O Love, replace their hearts of stone,
Dismantle all their gilded thrones;
Their kingdom built on shifting sand
Will fall, but I am in Your Hand — in You I’m home.
Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a Canadian queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.
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