Prophets Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Prophets

Must love the cathedrals
Not for faith, which is wronged
But for art…

Each of them a canvas with colors
With brush of the fate, and powers
Some ordered, more obeyed.

One can see the greed; purchasing the heaven.

The place with décor; ornaments of flesh
And blood
Underneath the buried in hiding, is so much.

They never come to light, cemented with the lies.

Much is same between them and the mosques.
Must also share crime with temples and shrines
Of Jewish and Buddhists and the rest.

All of them amusement, storing works of arts
History, confinement and kindness, and crimes…

Silently they tell us…