An Arm-less Savior

We, rows of children with numb tongues,
Mumble prayers in jest
To an arm-less savior above
[Who hosts but has no guest]
With our words and incantations
We find our breasts unfilled
So faith divined an invention
Of man’s desire to kneel

And those bound up, beneath the boot,
Who suffer Sodom’s ill
Find the unconcerned in turn may burn
But not before they kill
The least, the meek, the long forgotten
By the prosperous pews
Who cleaved the arms of a savior
Whose words they never knew


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