Love Bah

What happened to the days

when your name was wrath,

when your voice tore the trees

of the forest and made mountains smoke?

The trumpets blew,

mankind trembled and fled at your decent—

Your jealousy was a furnace

and you made those who

lessened your name like puppets

to teach your chosen.

Where’s the walled-sea?

The cloud-flame?

The one who made the earth swallow men?

You who slaughtered idolaters

not sparing the women or

their dear ones,

allowing their blood

to pay toll.

Calamity.

Chaos.

What do they name you now?

Friendship and acceptance?

Love and happiness?

The Christmas spirit?

Good Ol’ Saint Nick?

Bah.

Humbug.

I don’t believe in Christmas.

I don’t believe in satisfactory love and

unconditional truth. Bah!

i’d rather be a lamb!

at least then my blood would count,

and mankind,

with crimson hands,

would see the true meaning

of the word they toss around.