Villanelle: The Silver God

I made a silver god
and put it in a shrine.
I thought my work was good.
I made an altar of wood
and set it on the lawn.
I made a silver god,
with eyes I painted red,
because I was alone.
I thought my work was good.
A priest came by and said,
when everything was done,
I made a silver god
because I was so bad.
I did not think I sinned;
I thought my work was good.
He was amazed, and mad
with faith, he burned my shrine.
I made a silver god.
I thought my work was good.

Rik George

If you've any comments on this poem, Rik George would be pleased to hear from you.