Poem: The Helper

The Helper

 

Cosmic motion swells in the gut

Of the money-bag-holder,
And there, at the appointed moment
Enters, not an idea (greed or need)
But a being, of a world wholly other.
 
This cosmic helper,
Dividing his lot,
His coins with the changer.
 
This cosmic accuser 
Vindicating himself
Through the washing of hands.
 
This cosmic corrupter
Freeing the prisoner,
Exchange for an innocent man.
 
This cosmic pusher
Unaware to what end,
That ending the life of another
World sutured to a skeleton 
Of bone and flesh
Will spark divine fusion
To the body of man
Through wretched death.

 

 

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