Chronicles of The Velveteen Preacher

I'm a poet & I know it - and this book oughta show it. *Let me tell you why.
Never ever has a minister written books so sinister - *as I.
Through my books - some cheer me. They hear me. Some don't - they jeer me.
It seems it's nearing an end - being said, read, and done.
I gave western-horror Hell - and it was too hot for some.
Alas, this book is none of those things. It's a bit peculiar - rather sad and strange.

Deep in a world - filled with sorrow and pain.
Infinite cruelty - and ceaseless rain,
Sits a sad little ragdoll - all alone.
Peering out the window - from his cold dark home,
A city siren sounds - heralding a menacing tone.
Redoubt with sadness - yet hope has not flown
A light might shine down - from dark skies above
Going on a journey - will he live or die?
If it's just a chance - it's one he must take,
Not that the odds are good - for goodness sake
Going on a journey - he may not survive.