Deaf to the gracious pleas, the whistled horn.
He’s got the mercy garment torn.
Ravaging in the darkest Night,
In the castle of no Light.
He’s one of them!
He lives in a jungle of Vampires.

Oh! Jingle jungle!
He roams the jungle.
He is a dreadful lion,
A dangerous Python.
Here or there, a Chameleon.

Renting the air, there are voices;
The weeps and wails men.
The templed tent is rent and cut in twain!
Come! Oh come! Speaks the breathing voices;
Pleading a Nazareth’s Messiah.

Who can his mother be?
Of Virtue, Prime and Value?
Who can his ancient be?
This child of great massacre and Peace taboo;
A blinded prince of doom.

Here is a god we found!
He tells of truth and blooded lines.
His truths are weighed but not in pounds.
That this Persian prince;
A child spoilt at the string of his mother’s apron.

 

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