Quis Sicut Deus?
Growling dawn on the golden domes of restoration
and the gleaming dragon-slayer,
protector of city and soldiers,
stands, hands raised in prayer
not surrender
or a static situation
but a sorrowful soul seeking higher ground
for the next transmission
to commanders or from above
Knights in Arms by special commission
undeterred by siren songs
and velvet fists in iron gloves.
More pity then, the sleeping flock
torn from home
as nearing thunder shakes the clocks:
Uncle is coming to take your children
back for his own,
dragged by the hair into the night:
The Empire strikes back,
the old adversary has many faces
all seeking rabbits and setting traps,
kingdoms of grey and lines of black
replace the white but behold,
the Archangel still holds the aces.
©️Anna Murzyn Sun 27th Feb 2022
