Hell,

     The upside of heaven down, Is Invasion shining skyline through, Upon the impending ruins of sandcastle earth, If God is an out of time astronaut whose ageing this falling universe but reserving himself from the gift of white apocalyptic tunnel death, Then He isn't majestic at all and every pathetic saint David to child threatened psalm is but a beautiful insecurity spoken aloud... As a seed of lightning attempting to speak, Benignly in hope vain are the strangely dim prayer bolts of fire, A scoffing mime pariah attempting to mimic the voice of thunder!

    If The Buddha really does embrace the reincarnation algorithymns of Karma, Surely He malignantly hates the tragic poverty caste failed bushido reign of life's unfriendly blows, As if the no longer winged ashen creatures entitled demons, Who never sought atonement after their paper wing clip of fates clash of magical being, Were making every upside chess sunken down battle match board ship was but sticks to be thrashed in the wind and the reincarnated children of karma's malnourished eternal destiny were but marionette souls, Pawns trapped in the throws of a God's maleficent will.

     But... If She exists, The nature genesis source of all consciousness, Then compassion may one day arrive before the extinction of this every day holocaust derived prejudice sight inhumane world, But only... If we choose to live the cure, That something matters to love more than us.

In earnest anticipation of,