The Saint's Taint
The Saint's Taint A saint's taint to testify how men deify yet angels vilify... Oh my! How you lie, yourself belie! Fear Allah, Wrath! from the sky! Fear His inescapable might; if not, are you capable of flight? Will you not die? Thy time ye waste in mire, so shall ye taste a fire, its fiery embers dismembers! Is there any who remembers? Any lighted firefly to codify? Or are ye some smited storyteller, a faulty merchant seller and possessor of blood like a wine cellar? An icy heart's cold-rated beat to beat, the sour soul... Its kindled spirit; a gold-plated measure to the kindred spirit, now all beneath the shaytaan's sole.... The sellsword's word and bell, through time's test, fell; as he for fame's face, flaunted... Every coin he counted, every loin he courted! Courted in courtesy, to exhume ecstacy's soul-choking and foul fume... A poisonous conifer watered by a pestiferous pond, to the death in a debt's bond! O' how they are of their