Friday, April 12, 2024

The Fugitive

Without a spouse,
Yet acquainted with sin;
He burned down his house,
Only to inherit the wind.
 
A friend of the devil,
And an enemy of God;
A clueless rebel,
And an authentic fraud.

No time for prayer,

But up all night;
His cold dark lair,
Bereft of all light.

His shoes as his chariot,

And whiskey his fuel;
No money for the Marriott,
The sidewalk his stool.

The days came and went,

From countryside to city;
No need to pay rent,
As he begged for rich pity.

Past bridges all burnt,

He desperately dove in the ocean;
Life lessons were learnt,
As he guzzled the sea's salty potion.

Like the people of old,

Who drowned in the Flood;
Not doing what he was told,
As he sank in the mud.

But all hope was not lost,

As he boarded a passing vessel;
Already paying the cost,
No longer with God did he wrestle.

He found peace later in life,

And gave God the glory;
Settling down with a wife,
Thus ends the fugitive's story.

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The Fugitive

Without a spouse, Yet acquainted with sin; He burned down his house, Only to inherit the wind.   A friend of the devil, And an enemy of G...