Enough Poetry, We Must Repent

Finally, after a great load of stories has been told, it is my turn to speak. I listened patiently as every other man and woman told four stories. Each had some sort of rhyme, some sort of meaning, and of course a deeper meaning to be sought from the contexts of the story.

I, however, cannot rhyme and I cannot alliterate. So you will hear no such song-like character in my choice of words. Perhaps most of you do not know me, so I will enlighten you all. I am a poor priest from a poor town. I have stayed loyal to my church and stood fair to my churchgoers. I am a man of God, not of greed, wealth, lavish lifestyle, or unrealistic aspirations. I seek not to punish those who do not contribute their tithe, and as a result, I dwell in my own poverty, under the eyes of God.

And yet, now that I have your attention, I choose to speak of penitence. One must always acknowledge and confess their sins. One must beg for their forgiveness from the  Lord. One must repent these atrocities in their own hearts, internally, to realize one’s own wrongs. Not only that, but it is imperative to voice these sins to God, through those of us who can communicate on his behalf. You must confess these sins to the clergy of the Church. All of the Seven Deadly Sins must be confessed, so that I may offer a remedy.

Once the sins are confessed, I may heal you by administering virtues, which you must accept. You may trust me, for I am truly worthy of serving God. I myself am a virtuous and intelligent man, a servant of no tall tales, of no fable or poetry. I offer you this prose to consider for your own salvation, so that you may achieve satisfaction of your own humility.


1 thought on “Enough Poetry, We Must Repent

  1. You are a good parsons and I hope that we can enjoy this journey together. I just love to ride and you can hear my bridle jingle in the wind as clear as a bell.

    I am a monk out of my cloister. What use to study with pouring over some book. I’d rather be out riding and this pilgrimage is going to be a fun trip with my reward at the end.

    I have no sins to confess to you, but will pass the word along. I like to have nice things and these things I shall have. I make no excuses for them.

    And so my friend the parsons, I wish you well on your pilgrimage and may I say that I hope to win that supper, but may the best man win.

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