The Prophet

In the moment of rare clarity
The light consumed all that eyes can see
The air smells like old trees and fallen burning leaves
I feels the presence of godly spirit
Lifting me from the suffocating pit
Whispering,
    " O kindred soul
     You are the chosen one
     To lift all human kind like I lift you now
     From all that is evil and from all that is bad."

He, though I can't see
Is warm like a morning beam
Is soft like the purest silk
Whispering,
    "O the chosen one
     Kill he and he and she and she
     And their brethren and their babies
     Take their land and cut down their trees
     Burn their houses and slaughter their sheeps."