The Liberator
by Kenneth O' Keefe

Struggling he thrust into the dust his sturdy staff,
Dragging himself up the stark and stony mountain,
Tearing his skinned hands and knees to bloody chaff.
His exhausted face poured sweat like a fountain,
While his heaving breath fanned flames in his chest.
Though pain radiated through his whole body,
His thoughts were not on himself, but on the rest
Of his lost people suffering terribly
From not knowing what it was their one God wanted.
Often they spent themselves on wicked idols.
Now he – compelled to the mountain – hunted
The fierce Fire that would change the hearts of fools.
And all this tiresome toil and sacrifice he saw
As the one true path to follow to Freedom’s Law.

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