I have heard them in the middle of the night <br />At the street corners. When all is asleep <br />And the moon hangs heavy in the torpor of no-thought <br />Tongues break - <br />Whips lash the wrath of heaven on the heathen, <br />And the minds walled with the fear of God will tomb. <br />The heart must cringe and the eyes shrink, <br />For the ecclesiastic fury of the voices with no face <br />Will pound and grind the mills of doom <br />With no teeth. <br /> <br />What is the wrath of God that must break <br />In the horror of the images of hell? that must lash <br />In the scorpion's tail? that must grill? <br />God is no mad preacher; <br />The all-embracing arms will fold the stray sheep <br />That dud doomsayers kill.<br /><br />Tan Pratonix<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-preachers/
