Memories of Ntate moruti's sermons, tastes like lemons to my ears.
A pure man that drinks privately
But gets drunk in the eyes_____of many.
Blinded by his collar,
A "caller" they praise him.
Came to heal and he steals,
Takes our parents thoughts,
Hearts and souls.
They kneel and praise him in the almighty's name, words that create a living hell.
Heaven is a creation.
Heaven that heals is words on paper.
Ink on paper, cleanses the soul,
More than moruti's sermons.
©misslee
M