Wist Not

If not, so tragic it would be funny

The youth was made perfect

Land of milk and honey

Choosing to rebel, the mortal sin of pride

Since that fateful time, the bloom has died

Staggering by day; stumbling by night

Against the Living God, the child decides to fight

Lust for vanity, pleasure in war

For the money and fame, the shaver plays the whore

Once truly blessed now indeed cursed

The lad imagines he’s a god on earth

From the heavens, God looks to see

A mass of perdition once meant for glory

For His name’s sake, a promise to unfold

Attuning the world

The Truth is once told

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