Too Many Voices in His Brain

A mediocre offering

Was what the firstborn chose to bring.

The batch was deemed an unfit thing

To set before the Most High King.

 

What was it with this fellow Cain

And what went on inside his brain?

Did he rely on rotten grain,

The Lord’s good blessing to obtain?

 

Yes, Cain knew how to till the soil,

He reaped the fruit of his own toil

But lacked the wisdom from above

Comprised of fruits like joy and love.

 

His younger brother brought the best,

And found approval. He was blessed.

But Cain was angry and downcast.

He had to get revenge and fast.

 

God saw the chaos in his soul

And wanted Adam’s son made whole.

So, He gave Cain another chance,

The proper offering to advance.

 

“If you do well, I shall accept

The produce you from me have kept.

Receive a cue from this wise sage:

You simply must contain your rage.”

 

But there were voices in Cain’s head,

And they wished Abel to be dead.

They told Cain why he shouldn’t hear

the truths God whispered in his ear.

 

“You’ve every right to feel this way.

The Lord’s voice you need not obey.

These are the facts, we do not jest.

You know Dad likes your brother best.”

 

Cain let his feelings drive him wild,

Just like a spoiled, unruly child.

To self-control he would not bow,

But let his anger loose, and how!

 

With violence like a sudden flood,

He murdered Abel in cold blood

And demonstrated no remorse

When asked about his wicked course.

 

God made Cain pay the penalty

For acting on his jealousy.

From him prosperity would flee.

A restless wanderer he would be,

 

While searching here and searching there,

Not finding comfort anywhere.

Confusion was his destiny,

And yet God sought to set him free.

 

For though he was a wicked guy,

God spared his life. Cain did not die.

God’s mark of mercy sheltered him

From those who might avenge his sin,

 

This grace, I think, was heaven-sent,

In hopes that someday he’d repent

And start to thirst for righteousness

Within that dark place of distress.

 

Perhaps he did. We do not know.

However, as the scriptures show

He built a city. Was it tall?

It could not save him from the fall.

 

I guess it was the first stronghold,

Inhabited by young and old,

Asylum for a man insane,

Too many voices in his brain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author: C R Flamingbush

C.R. Flamingbush grew up in Wheaton, Illinois and graduated from Georgetown University with a degree in German and linguistics. After working seven years for the Department of Defense (an easy job), she took on the most difficult challenge in the world: a lifetime career of raising four children. Along the way she developed a passion for writing Christian superhero fantasy. She enjoys humor because it's Biblical (see the second psalm) and she loves to make people laugh - whether through her writings, her art, or just by being herself. Writing fantasy is her way of poking fun at human foibles and all the ridiculous ideas that so easily beset the human race, while at the same time honoring God in every way she can. Flamingbush has been a member of Faithwriters since 2010, and several of her winning contest entries have been published by Fresh Air Press. She likes Fan Story and has been a Narnia fan since the age of ten. In terms of influence, she aspires to be the next C.S. Lewis but has quite a ways to go in that regard. Speed of Sight, a Superhero Adventure, is her first novel. A sequel is in the works.

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