Sedated Sleep

An aged oak stretches its fingers

Through purple skies.

Under its branches owls convene

And ravens spy.

Man justifies walking-by sowing lies,

And Christ is no longer found

On solid ground.

Post-modernism’s axe swings low

Striking at reason’s roots.

Now, owls shiver, wisdom withers,

Spoiling virtuous fruits.

Ethics feed less and less,

And faith becomes obsolete.

Humanism we adore

And naturalism soars.

New truths keep the ole discreet.

Relativism takes the plow

To mix right-n-wrong into one sedated sleep.

102904

Chester Delagneau


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