The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

December 26, 2013

The Death of God

Before my Father was in the ground
The Vultures flew and gathered 'round
For His Sins the Son atones
The Vultures swarmed and plucked His bones
For His rage, Angelic Spies
Dropped their wings and ate His eyes
For His jealousy and leers
The Devils came and boxed His ears
For His tablets and His laugh
The Maidens robbed His Wheat and Chaff
They lowered Him without a sound
His mouth was sewn, His arms were bound

Now that I am in the ground
I hear His screams, His words resound
"This is the land, this is the sea,
"Mankind is my Enemy
"This is the air, and this the earth
"Mankind is my afterbirth"
We lie there, screaming, Our last Breath
Projects a World made from our Death
Stranger, if you come around,
Desecrate this Hallowed Ground

Generated by Mnemosyne 0.12.