In the disturbed world of today, I believe we must look to the tragedies of the past for guidance into the future. This piece is based on one of my first efforts, now many years ago.

 

The City of God

“It stands on a hill,” you say,

"a golden fortress, buttress to our faith,

a Heavenly Jerusalem to Rome's decay”.

Such piety is useful

to commanders of the expendable,

 

but few such as I (not more)

who fled crashing Krystalnächt and bled

on the boots of SA murder squads

will shew such trust in Torah's lore

as Crusaders at the Saracens' gate.

 

Those who laughed longest at Europe's Chaplin

found too many causes in their bravado,

their tardiness,

ever to wish that truth, not reason,

would be a saviour at the last.

 

Then too late;

the rest was left to fortune's gentle mercy

(the story's no better for the telling)

the city fell, the hill remained -

scythed clean, pounded, void, in flame.

 

So faith and truth are lost:

easily, without fear, they drop the veil

to reveal their fragile face,

and turn against the bland & weak,

becoming what we inwardly despise

when the beast is out and the Devil drives.

 

Chris Hubbard

Perth

2018