The beast, enlightened
Swipes his tail
Stars fall from heaven
Like figs from a tree in the wind
Stars like those of us
Who, once with Our Lord
Now somehow must show Him
They hate Him the most
And calling out all who would worship most meekly
All over the world
In forever the same manner
A call out to rival the Pharisees
And the need to invent a response
To oppose anyone claiming fullest truth
And inventing response
Makes the Word most unsound
And poisons the faithful
And chases its children away
And the wondering Word
As it becomes more unsure
Turns hungry and scared
For answers, for pride
Turns into a wolf in the midst of the sheep
And as long as it stays
There is plenty to eat
Each generation sees sin in its midst
And to him who would calculate
Would indicate His revulsion to sin
Would lead him to believe
That where he sits
Could not possibly get worse
So there have always been those
Who could not imagine
That sin would further escalate
But our salvation
We all have the Word
A prophesy most cryptic
A dream with warnings
Preventing us from fully knowing our destiny
While allowing us to sense its treasures
As is Just
Not one of us
Owns the Word of this prophesy
We are all Smyrna
Praised for our meekness
For our tribulation
For our patience
Not opposing
But going in God's Glory
A prophesy with warnings
With serious consequences
We are Brothers and Sisters
The Word is fractured
So we will never be whole
And the Word fractured will be overcome
By the beast, enlightened
So we would best pull together
In this age of great signs
To call ourselves brothers and sisters
To ward off delusion
To build safe haven
If all the evidence we see lines up to sacred prophesy
And does it not?
Why would it then not play out
In the predicted fashion?