Blind are my eyes to fate
Such can never unfold before me
The path deemed proper – in the light
Abhorrent is the coil
Which I nominate be stricken
 
Who can be the one who claims
To scribe my life onto a page
A monolith of limn – portrait of the fickle
When revelations prove belied
Then a prophet might I be

Deaf have my ears become
To this lexicon of hate
Superstition never dies – rebirth of the form
A narrow minded cult
Proffered false perfection

Mute shall I be one day
When dissenters are we all
Paying homage to dream – never has it been
Boding are the omens
My predecessors have foreseen
  
Lost is the glory of inundation
The calling on a force that is not there
Search with breath drawn in – divinity awaits
Sanctuary does not delay itself
Within cold lacustrian queues

Quickened is the lifeblood
Of my impious humanism
The believers shall perish – sating lions
As it has always been
So shall they all see

Dead is their faulty reason
From their orthodoxy in demise
A total regurgitation - complete Apostasy
Heed now my words of wisdom
For a Prophet shall I be…

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