I sing of this thing and you speak of that.
Yet we all know that the Earth is still flat,
Like a drunk man trying to sing in tune.
Yeah, we will all go crazy here soon.
I am ranting, screaming, raving, raging
It’s no secret that my mind is Cageing
Like Luke just tryna get back to his home,
I am finding my fury as I roam.
I will go up and down the winding road
In search of a less risky abode.
But every oasis along my path
Is surely nothing more than God’s wrath.
What confusion there is in sight and sound
That rests between the profane and profound.
Be ready for the alleged heresies
If you don’t cast lots with the Pharisees.
It’s not just a journey. No, it’s a war
but I’m not even sure what it’s all for.
I know there is more for me in this life
Than growing weary from spiritual strife.
I turn to look upon my traveled path
and think “maybe it wasn’t all just wrath…”
But it’s hard to clear up my muddled sight
When 10,000 “Christs” all claim to be right.
Posted in: Poetry