The Shrubb (or The Perils of Atheism)
By: Xaviere Posted on: February 07, 2004
Whence I came from fair Delos
After a night of alcoholic gluttonie,
‘Twas off arduous Prelatorian I came across
A curious sight of profound mysterie.
A cavern of gloom exquisite
Saturated all light visible,
But the object I spi'd right front of it
Was all forlorn inedible.
With leaf shivering soundlie in zephyr dance
And shoot wav'd in silent voice,
Its serenitie held me in deep entrance,
Its quiet frame Nature did rejoice.
I approach'd with prudent touch
To see this sight that was most queer,
So it was this that I greeted such,
"Proud Shrubberie, why art thou here?"
To this, the Foliage did not stir
As was its nature as a plant
But yet I press'd, and then strangely came a purr
Which describ'd this greenerie's present slant.
"Fair Lady," said it, ungender'd as yet,
"I dare not speak of my current plight,
As of that, madam, I would rather forget
And should prefer that you left my sight."
To be spoken like this gave much dismay
As this bush had much affront
To insinuate or even to say
That I was a nosy little runt.
So answered I, "Proud Shrubberie,
What brings on this tone of rustle?
Why does a plant spout animositie
From each little root to leafy muscle?"
"Fair Lady," the flowerless fiend did speak,
"I wish you would cease asking so.
Desist what you so dearly seek;
Please, would you shut up and just go?"
"Thine tongue is foul," I pointed out,
"Nature's nectar tainted through,
Is thy root afflicted with painful gout
Or art thou sick with Shallamese ‘flu?"
"Fair Lady," the earth-bound entity did note,
"My illness is not due to some disease.
My present state in this green coat
Was my fault from a rather sad misdeed."
At this I paus'd, and smil'd wryly,
For the Shrubb's plight seem'd quite common,
Despite it beginning rather shyly,
I knew it was a problem to do with a woman.
"Fair Lady," the jaded species did reply,
With some floral anger, I must admit,
"What causes you to ask me why
I sit down here with stem tightly knit?"
To this I said, "What right had she
To change all of thee in these present states,
If that woman was one like me
I would have said, "We could be mates!"
"Fair Lady," said the Shrubb, rather loudly,
"My crime is nothing to do with the fairer sex,
If it was, I would sit here more proudly,
With my deed not imprinted in eternal fiery text."
"Then damn them who did it!" I suddenly cried,
Without any knowledge of the Shrubb‘s cause,
"Thou surely canst not so far have lied,
So what didst thou do? Tell me what it was!"
"I called Sarapis a clot
And Clementius a sot,
And Aeyr -
Well, let's just not go there.
I got in a fight
With the Mistress of Night
And ruin'd Ourania's hair."
I was slanted by the so-called Lord of Evil
For supposedly being far too feeble,
So I wrote a rather derogatory letter
To Indrani to tell Her She could‘ve done better.
Now call me silly
Or a gregarious filly,
But I can't decide which One is wetter.
That Neraeos wants to make me flip,
Sailing across the sea in His inflated ship,
And what about Phaestus and His oversized hammer?
Waving it like an advertisement banner!
And Eris and Pandora,
Like Mother, like Daughter,
Are the epitome of tiresome manner.
Let's not talk about Lupus and Demeter,
Whose every single proverbial creature
Was sent to torment me eternally
From head to toe most infernally.
I'm not a big Mithraea fan
Since that horrid tan
Which ruined a major facial feature.
In Shallam sits Pentharian,
Slacking about with Lorielan,
And Scarlatti lies about,
With Selene no doubt,
While Matsuhama bashes
And Thoth slashes,
It made me want to scream and shout!
What is the point of these Divine also-ran,
With Prospero waving His big fat wallet,
I really don't know what to call it,
It's all a dream, just Valnuranan!"
Suddenlie, without a moment's pause,
The next few seconds were rather shocking,
As cerulean lightning from Divine shores
Soon ceas'd the saucy Creature's mocking.
I glanc'd up in great confusion
And spi'd a sight of much furie,
To see every God and not an illusion,
Egads! They were judge and jurie!
So the lesson that I learnt whence I came across,
After a night of alcoholic gluttonie,
Far from the place that was fair Delos,
I concluded when I reach'd sobrietie.
Unless thou art looking to push the Garden bound
By suggesting things causing godly fuss,
Painting so that the celestial frown‘d,
Know that a God is for life, not for Logosmas.