Abraham

Patriarch of the stars
Father of the sands
Won’t you hear my plea
To intercede for your descendents
For the smell of sulfur in the air
Is beginning to remind me of Sodom
The injustice
The gluttony
The idle hands
The poor ignored
Is beginning to look like Gomorrah
The ash, I can taste it in my mouth
We distance ourselves from these fabled cities
For we were founded on freedom and truth
Our ignominy tells no tales
Is there a righteous man
Even one?
Patriarch, oh that you were here
To plead on our behalf
That the righteous might rise up
And be heard before it is too late
For our transgressions
Are the catalyst
In which we’ve been dousing ourselves
Before the city is lit ablaze
Patriarch of the stars
Won’t you forgive us
For treating your children
As grains filtered one by one
As the sand of time
Falling
As we watch
With able hands, each life
Waste away

Righteous man, rise up
Save your city from destruction
For the cry of the forgotten
The rumble of the empty stomachs
The voicelessness of the downtrodden
Is beginning to sound like the haunting chant
The chant of justice, of judgment

Father of many
Righteousness was credited to you
For faith in an unseen covenant
As fools we have disgraced your blessing
Ascribed to us
For our “sin so grievous”*
I fear, is a piercing outcry
That will not be ignored
Father of many
Won’t you rescue us
So that the righteous
Will not be swept away with the wicked? *


*Genesis 18:20
**Genesis 18:23
Concept impetus: Ezekiel 16:49