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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: dreamscape
A person prays and as they do deems themselves good scorning the wrong of another, blindly not seeing hypocrisy they emit - they themselves use wiles to manipulate men. Honor here is hypocrisy.

Submitted: April 22, 2019

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Submitted: April 22, 2019



The medieval period an age when its denizens can be subjected to cruel or even barbaric fates unthinkable to future generations who judge but are on the outside looking in.


Kneeling beside their bed are they, this late evening the day’s light was getting dark but for this feel no need of candle, eyes shut and hands clasped, prays with an air of haughtiness.


I thank you, God, that I am not like other people — dirty of heart, corrupt of mind, sinner to the faith. I’m certainly not like that Babylonian scarlet! I fast twice a week, and I give you a tithe of my income.


More condemned than jeered walks past the crowd…more like paraded. Starts with one jeer from a citizen then others like bleating sheep curse and taunt her. A slow walk. No wagon cage for her, would be too fast and not close enough to a crowd. It’s why the good people do this, a shamer shamed must be the way. Traded fine linen for rags, jewellery for a shrew’s fiddle on her arms. A woman like that am not I oh Jehovah, too pure of spirit, servant of the Lord.


Able to show my face anywhere unlike ‘that.’ I want something from the bunch of men I know, I walk up, show some leg and like male dogs give anything, the person giggling.


Strumpet! Not me, I will not be called out, blood of the lamb cloaks this servant. All they see me do is charm men to get things. All this I heard about her.


So you see oh Jehovah, as for my soul and I, its lived by your teachings, my honor is like angel’s raiment, not soiled.


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