the prophet

A leader to be followed,
A man to judge the dead
He stands on the pulpit preaching
‘The Kingdom of Heaven is near,’ he said.

A movement, small to start,
Followers, chosen, whence did come,
A story to develop,
Apostles, on his death, they doth become.

To him not all stay loyal,
A disciple, mendacious, will betray.
He preaches great things, in abundance be,
Such as ‘feed the people,’ come what may.

He gives a fish, man prospers,
Enough for one, enough for all.
He walks on water, others follow,
Enticed, enriched, enthralled.

The prophet, from death he does return,
His soul arises from this earth.
Meagre mortals prey, have mercy be,
Those once blind, now they can see.

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