The large, dark clouds conceal the sky,

Tiny spheres plummet, a million fold,

Thus comes the thunder to which I swear,

I will and can not be subdued by the intolerable rattling,

Birch, ash and oak bow before its hellish sovereignty,

I neither know nor care where your soul is or how it doth fare.

Heaven and hell, an unlikely couple,

Produced through the vitriol of vying spiritual sects,

Virtuous be the brain-dead as virtues visibly rot,

A melee dressed in holy writ, hypocrisy unbound,

Sanity mourns her blood soaked body,

A dystopia formed through fallacies so impeccably ‘profound’

Sesquipedalian proverbs cited oh so clear,

So I stay a troglodyte amidst this din,

Reptilian tongues lie all around,

Elizabeth’s face is worn grey,

Blessed be the war-makers, all of high order,

The light is a lie, in pitch did truth once sound.