*This is an old one I dug up, edited and was pleasantly surprised to still enjoy.
I like to hope that the sky will one day split apart
And spew back verbal vulgarity and chemical death
(I'm all about settling scores)
The sickening saturations it never asked for,
And we'll all be party to a most unnatural disaster.
Then, much refreshed, that simple wonder
you made a god
will swallow the bloviating, pandering bullshit
you built a life around
and take back what it's owed -
Your lives - "souls" if you prefer.
I bet that sounds crazy.
But until that time,
keep acting, confusing, offering, appeasing
but never searching, never asking.
Even if we do seven years tribulation
Then one thousand with this king of nations,
And you've moved on past the grave,
Some of you raptured away,
You'll find when that drama is said and done,
This will all keep spinning,
And probably be better off.
That's one there's plenty of proof for.
