When I decide to make a call
On who or what created all
My head bows down but then I think:
"I bet Old Dude could use a drink."

How many pray they find the ways
Of glory in exalted days?
Well I am here and hip to cheer
The few who do remove some fear.

But I don't buy the free disease
Of ancient age mythologies.
They bring no peace and ring no bell
But still sell fake old takes on hell.

Each day I stay a hopeless case
Who waits the fate of death to face
The glow of truth--but will truth show
To flat-line brains? Hell, I don't know!

Nor do I know the glow of true...do you?

Edited 6 time(s). Last edit at 03/03/2022 03:21AM by easyeverett.

Unfailingly
Posted by: JohnnyBoy (68.194.87.---)
Date: August 17, 2021 06:00AM


If I told you all the secrets of the Morningstar
With a grandness facing skyward and receiving and unwound
Then the tendency would be to have your mouth ajar
In conformity with gazes that have shifted to the ground

For the whitewash and the blackmail are uneven now
As to which way this is leaning all depends on when it’s seen
For we must have been as good or bad as them somehow
And the answer “M” is truly now the one that lies between