The Papal Drug
Fallen angel, into the house,
Dressed in white like the sun at noon,
Broke like a thirsty, hungry mouse,
Guard cats looking at a cartoon.
Drops of poison, like dew looking,
Honey-coated and counterfeit,
All the citizens are tasting,
From the poor to the high and great.
By the Papal drug bedazzled,
An ice storm will soon be received;
The love of Christ is bedraggled,
The Mother of God is deceived.
Bucharest, 2nd June 2019