Shout from the rooftops
those whispers in your ear
that schizos may speak
and their followers hear.

That nutcase Messiahs
and self-proclaimed Lords
may reign in the splendor
of psycho wards.

That demons be exorcised,
angels beheld,
and the Savior restore
what the Garden expelled.

That shepherds spin yarns,
flocks be well-fleeced
with no charlatan spared
from the reign of the beast.

Until virgins are satisfied
trimming their wicks,
and we see by that light
that we all need a fix.