Completely Rimbaud

He wrote about angels,
the rise and rumbling noise
of heavenly highways;

unharnessed the darker
savage shades of injurious
misfortunes to prey upon

the christian children.

Can a man be saved
if he cultivates duplicity?

Did God create the good
and evil, the summer

and its ravaged storms?

He drew a chain, a pirate's
rope and hung the masked
and poisoned souls like flags

he raised them to the sky;

the winds, his deep benevolent
pride snapped and whirling madly
cried: what precious weathervanes!

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