You can call me God, I suppose,
For lack of a better word.
He hides away from the world of men,
Never seen nor ever heard.
Saddened by what we have seen,
Knowing well what Evil is,
Darkness is my sole reprieve.
Loneliness, then, must be His.
O, so oft have I viewed the Damned
And their mighty righteousness
That I shall wait here, calm, until
I am consoled with emptiness.
What is Truth? Tell them, Lord!
They are blinded by their own deceit!
Look how merrily they capre and dance,
Unaware of just how discrete
Evil is, and how subtly it feasts
On their blackened souls and frozen hearts.
Judgement becomes them so rapidly
And so they sing their wicked arts
And cast all souls beneath their feet.
But when they see the Road they've made,
'Twill be too late to hasten retreat.

09/23/2001

Posted on 09/23/2001
Copyright © 2025 Gary Hoffmann