Appointed Agents, a calling came, they,
beating books of redeeming raptures, striked,
palms pounding profusely at devil’s door.
Pagan present, to accost Angelicans, their
pretense promises of parables preaching, left,
fictional fantasies falling on educated ears.
Sirach’s Son, so proclaimed prophets, his
demise defining our damnation delivered, said,
greedy gospellers granting to salvating souls.
Sermon serviced, sinner self-willed, mind
feverently fortitude in fighting free-will, closed
door defiantly dispelling self righteous recruiters.
This poem can be read on poetry.com – http://poetry.com/poems/158732