
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
A door once opened might never be closed
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
Those who self-rule carry no shield
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
The naive consider themselves mighty and bold
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
How many can discern Heaven from Hell?
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
The deceived seek wisdom within the spider’s mansion
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
Their children amuse themselves with live grenades

Spirits rise! But of what kind?
When offered truth, they shoot darts of poison
Spirits rise! But of what kind?
So they must lay on the bed that they made.
How good can those specters be? How much light can they bring
If those who follow have abandoned mankind?
If darkness is welcomed and rewarded as virtue
And curses are embraced as affection?
How twisted the spiritual mind has become!
How it has been raped by the King!
Oh yes, spirits rise – but of what kind?
You’ll know by the chaos they bring.
Poetry Copyright © 2020 by Ena Whiteraven All rights reserved.
First Image: found online, shutterstock.com
Second Image: found online, artist unknown
Reblogged this on Superlative Deviation and commented:
New poem for the season – and the times. Enjoy!
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