Monday, 30 September 2013

Vernon Gets His Wish

The glorious day was coming,
and when it did,
it would not find Vernon unprepared.
He would lead his new family,
tin-halo'd head held high,
and the flames would lap at them harmlessly,
their rapture shaking the earth.

Can you see their shining faces?
Their cheeks glisten
with tears of pure faith,
and Lord help the man, woman or child
with no armour of belief
in their bold stride.

(Of course, Vernon wasn't his real name;
he'd shed the skin of his past
to be fresh and reborn,
to lead his new family
into the light.)

But nothing is ever that simple,
is it?
There always those ready 
to pervert the course of the righteous.
Clad in silken robes
or Armani suits,
their job remains the same;
wielding blades or wielding bureaucracy,
to stand in the way of the angels.
But Vernon would be ready.
He would do as the angels had done
when Lucifer's pride threatened to topple
the One True Throne.
He would build an army, 
and hold them close.
This would be his family.

Scriptures would be read.
Assault rifles stockpiled.
New soldiers fathered.
Man-sized paper targets shredded.
In this commune
rich in faith and firepower
and alive with brotherly love.

You must remember.
The family's love for Vernon was real,
as real as their belief in him
as the one to lead them to glory.

And when Vernon's day dawned,
he was ready.
His soldiers, his brothers,
at his side.

And they came.

With tanks
and guns 
and sniper rifles
and snazzy matching jackets
and their own misguided convictions,
and they launched pillars of flame 
through shattered windows 
to the tune of screaming children.
And with the conviction that
God was guiding his hand,
Vernon stepped into the light,
and most of his family followed.

Charisma can be a terrible thing.

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