Idol Worship

Idol Worship

Polished ebony, chiseled, tooled and beautiful
Finely detailed, carved by a knowing hand.
A wondrous figurine, apt for adoration.
Subtle brilliance woven, an aura of simplicity
Surfaces smooth, worn by the sands of time.

The idol once adorned the altars of antiquity.
Unknowing, it was worshipped, itself uncaring.
A thousand thousand took up belief in its deity.
And slaughtered a thousand thousand who didn’t.
The statue smiled placidly on, still not caring.

Generations of crimes committed in its name,
It cared not, though a god they had named it.
A cataclysm erupted upon the adoring faithful.
Their last moments were spent wondering why
The Idol had forsaken them in their grief.

But the statue sat unknowing and unfeeling.
It was merely a lump of polished coal
fast turning into a hunk of ossified stone.
Think well when you impute deity to an idol
It may be only as real as the idol thought.

Joseph Xavier Martin