Chronicles of The Velveteen Preacher

I'm a poet & I know it - and this book oughta show it. *Let me tell you why.

Never ever has a minister written books so sinister - *as I.

Through my books - some cheer me. They hear me. Some don't - they jeer me.

It seems it's nearing an end - being said, read, and done.

I gave western-horror Hell - and it was too hot for some.

Alas, this book is none of those things. It's a bit peculiar - rather sad and strange.



Deep in a world - filled with sorrow and pain.

Infinite cruelty - and ceaseless rain,

Sits a sad little ragdoll - all alone.

Peering out the window - from his cold dark home,

A city siren sounds - heralding a menacing tone.

Redoubt with sadness - yet hope has not flown

A light might shine down - from dark skies above

Going on a journey - will he live or die?

If it's just a chance - it's one he must take,

Not that the odds are good - for goodness sake

Going on a journey - he may not survive.