Zedekiah in the Inner Chamber

There is no honour for a prophet God has lied to.
Oh we all know those days when words won’t come,
When we temporise with the king, shaking our heads,
Our iron horns weighing heavy and no joy in us.
But those words rang with the true tone
Of God’s own voice, clear and certain, we all
Heard the same words, crying “Gore,
Gore the Arameans, until they be destroyed!”
God’s true spirit, speaking to us, clear and undoubted
“Gore the Arameans!” So yes, Micaiah,
Now the city is burning and the king is dead
Now that I am cowering in my inner chamber,
With screams and battle cries rising from outside,
Now I understand you, and God’s inner meaning
Tricking proud Ahab into thankless battle
Into destruction, gored by Aramaeans.
I will plead, I will weep, I will beg the attackers,
But I will bow down no more and refuse all worship.
God bore false witness, and made my mouth speak it.