Church Mice

There is a tale that’s writ in German history.
A church was passed each Sunday by a train.
Its death-knell whistle blew as it flew swiftly
To Hell as stricken souls shrieked out in vain.
These yells were muffled by the lusty singing
Of worshippers who harmonized with might
To quell the shock and stop a shudder ringing
Through placid bones not fashioned for a fight.
The plight and prayers of Jews, their destination,
Meant naught if pious choirs couldn’t hear
The cars that chugged right by the congregation
To monstrous fates that begged for mercy’s ear.
The deaf ignored the soaring roars of fright—
Howls that haunted corners of the night.
–
Howls that haunt the corners of the night
Taint my thoughts and taunt my starlit dreams.
How do shepherds guide flocks to the light
If they themselves are deaf to desperate screams
Of lockdown lambs devoid of hope and help?
Would shepherds of today just slam their door
On every fretful yowl and fearful yelp
From souls draconian overlords deplore?
As ills are forced by experts decked with letters,
As iron fists make errant thinkers pay,
As means are crushed for questioning our betters—
Do all those called by God just turn away?
In times of tortured facts and bogus care
Are shepherds blind to pits of bleak despair?

Are shepherds blind to pits of bleak despair
Befouled with blood from babies torn apart?
Are pastors uninformed and unaware
Of brainwashed kids who nurse a joyless heart?
Are vicars deaf to mutilated youth
Neutered by the hormone-blocking ghouls?
Do priests skip by the skewed subjective truth?
Do pregnant men take clergymen for fools?
Silence is salvation’s deadly foe.
When preachers of our time refuse to speak,
They’re dancing with the demons wielding woe—
The beasts who draw their strength from all that’s weak.
The outcome of this stance is not a mystery—
You’ve heard the tale that’s writ in German history.