Hagia Sophia

On rocky shores I pitched my tent
She stayed the waves, she clasped the earth
Vicars were made of men, faint but helped
Light abounds in this mystic cove
Life and dignity fill my pews
My Holy Orders were regal
And Hades’ gates could not prevail.

Oh Mehmed! How he pounds my gates
My princes, sold to meat and wine
My laity is parched and lifeless
Where is Eden’s pleasant odour?
Dead flies spoiled the perfumer’s oil
See! the red heifer has no eyes
And my tent becomes the gallows!

‘Tis all wind in my own parish
Whitewashed sepulchres, reaching in vain
Elias’ mantle-twice would revive
What stands wasting; embers of life
Yeshua’s zeal, must overturn
The bargain for the souls he bought;
This tribute to Kayser-i Rûm!


The year 1453. . .The 21-year-old Sultan of the Ottoman empire, Mehmed II, leads a siege against Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Roman empire. His would be the last of many failed attempts. In visions of the night, he had been given the Red Apple. He is destined to succeed where his fathers failed. Under great pummeling and in 53 days, Constantinople fell. Her temple is desecrated, Mehmed is Caesar. . . 567 years later, and there’s a great outcry in The City of God!

Author Bio:
Dr Rabbles Gyabeng is a young medical practitioner; He is a staunch Christian with a strong passion for the Holy Scriptures, and special interest in Church history and literature. In this piece, he tries to express Mehmed the Conqueror’s siege of Constantinople in 1453, and the subsequent desecration of the Hagia Sophia cathedral, as a parallel to the contemporary spiritual climate.

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