You sit, a false god on your crumbling throne,
Wreaking chaos,
To rival what peace lost-
Oh, at what cost,
Will I continue my prostration before you?
The divinity in me must replace,
What profligacy is riled by your face,
You want me weak,
So you can be strong,
You craftily turn right into wrong,
But now I must sing, my song,
At the altar of my true Lord & Master,
For as my earthly Mother & Father have continually forsaken me-
Only He hath reigned ever after.
And oh, at what infinite and exponential profit,
Will continue, my prostration before Him.
