It was as if God lay on the edge of a sword
It was as if he had no help coming aboard
There was such calumny, both heard and unheard
It stank of manipulation and misrepresentation of his each word
And the stirrup got entangled in the breeches
The steed was surrounded by a sea of eroding beaches
How was God to escape his overwhelming ignominy?
Would he have to wander for eternity on his humbled knees?
The hymns were written by tentacular, grabbing arms
And in your ignorance, you bowed, with no qualms
This is pervading much too long – the universe’s uneasy calm
This is no Paradise’s ambrosia, but a lie that has you embalmed
What was the first words, when he awoke in solitude, that God uttered
Was it: Let there be Love; or Let there be Light; in the void was heard?
And did a subsequent malevolent creation inflict, on him, such noise?
How what was hijacked from God weakened but didn’t debilitate God’s poise?!
You can see a gluttony at the deep end can even disguise its voice
It may speak through you like ventriloquism, through the instinct first propounded by Freud
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