Before the afternoon sermon was a starter
God had sat quietly on the corner,
His mien still dripping with wudhu water
His eyes spectacled in unknown sunglasses
Standing up on the altar was the preacher
to take out his brushes and paint in anger
onto the canvas of otherwise pristine minds
"His face, everybody!" so cruel and malignant
Ending the sermon, he asked every single one of us
to amien all the good things he slyly begs from Him
posted by nad
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