The Prophet
               The Prophet  prophet stories
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laurenloggins
laurenloggins Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
The Prophet hands me a choice; Blue, green, yellow, pink? Each brightly colored pill promising something unique! Will I grow, or will I shrink?
-A poem about the Prophet's deception-

The Prophet

The Prophet hands me a choice; Blue, green, yellow, pink?

Each brightly colored pill promising something unique

Will I grow, or will I shrink?

Will I fly. or will I fall to the floor?

Sleep for hours or sleep never more?

I ponder my options, I debate which delight

Fade into darkness or burst into light?

He grows impatient, weary of my lack of decision,

Normally I choose with speed and precision

But what do I want to feel today?

Which type of pain do I want to fade away?

His hand starts to shake and close

So I grab the closet, that pink, that beautiful rose

Today I will float midair, unencumbered by fear

Dancing with joy, impressed with a mirror

The pill slips down my throat and I smile

He smiles back with a fair bit of guile

I don't know why until I feel it take hold

And I sink and sink, growing cold

A trick! The Prophet, what has he done?

Our leader, our hero, our chosen One!

My eyes dim, and my life flashes with sins

And this is where the real story begins.

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