Resident horror poet Nigel Parkin delivers an ode to the late Robin Hardy’s 1973 masterpiece The Wicker Man
A Policeman’s Prayers…
I – The Coming of the King
There is deceit here. Can I trust my eyes?
A serpent’s venom infects my vision.
Naked women dance in the Lord’s garden,
Through flames, while children worship the phallus
As a symbol of their god! I’ll split wood
And fashion a cross to bring back the blood
Of their forgotten king, Christ, Lord of lords,
Whose sacrifice can still save Summerisle.
Lord! Dispel the mist of false Paradise!
Lift the veil from these sinners’ sun-dazed eyes
And let them see themselves for what they are –
Beasts, fornicating in the fires of Hell,
Claiming innocence, laughing like children
As they stain and desecrate your kingdom.
Burn, Wicker Man, Burn…
