What the Pagan Said

Why can't we all be like that wise old Pagan?

The Pagan unto the Christian Said,

Surest our Gods can one Day be Friends.

They may sit without quarrel or Ferrel,

Eat of same swine and drink of same Barrel;

Berries in wine plucked from one vine.

They'll look of each other in opposing apparel. 

One is warped in divinity,

Other divded by the teachings of Many.

One for the sun,

One for the mind,

One to rule them all,

One to darkness guide. 

Your master is all knowing 

Ours are still in numbers growing

Are both their beds not plucked from Fowl?

Do all not conquer opposers Foul?

Both arms spring from earth the needed Fruits

Both bless and curse as they so righteous choose.

So can both not sit and ponder with wit

of common grounds and bountiful loots?

The Christian to the Pagan Responded,

We follow Just leaders, though followers despondent.

A Viper and Winder each fanged in nature

Common enemy shared at wartime departure.

Striking at each other whilst slaying own brother,

These are not our Gods that enact such hatred.

It is not our Gods whom with fire consume villages,

It is not they whom Storm the castles and rape the women,

Not they who inflict nor they who infect,

Neither one gathers masses for holy justified pillages. 

They sit together indeed

Sharing their lamb and mixing their mead,

Sharing also a pair of disgruntled eyes,

shaming the men and all mankind. 

No, It is not our Gods' kinsman ship in question,

Rather it is us waiting to learn meaning of brethren. 

So sat the Pagan and Christian aglowing,

speaking tales of their God's all-knowing.