Do you not see sense with my War? Do you want apocalypse?: A poem 

(Anthony Albanese, you know what your treacherous soul befits! Believe me, the reality I have reserved for you is far worse!) 

Do you know the evil ambitions in their underbellies have always unnerved me? 

That I scantily spoke through eternity, waiting that the truth they may see! 

But what when they only shake up all my trees to confound me? 

You must know that I am no mere algorithm with just one solution 

I am the divinity that set all these fires in motion 

Have you all got a clue of righteousness and wrongness, for all your wayward notions 

Do you know that they want God to be subservient, but he never belonged to their oceans? 

Would you think his soft heart didn’t snap from all the jealousy of the traitors? 

Ask which one of you from the evil Left did not spring forth to be his usurping baiters? 

And you know a fork-tongued Prime Minister was the most recent among the devious 

But his treachery so much silently bled God; ask me if I am all that impervious? 

Do you all shallow Sapiens Men think you can drag down God to your depths? 

 And some of you who are not mere Men, want to assume their shadows in your soul-dispersing glens! 

Till when do you all think God can be patience, sublimity and restraint? 

Is war not enough to bring you all to your senses? 

Or, are you all inciting him to crank the shaft of apocalypse?