Equally non-corporeal
Such a simple thing
For those who see
So hard when it’s a matter
Of belief
The tool of the spy
Is your mind
How it only perceives
What it wants to believe
And what it believes in
Is others
Who know of the trap doors
The guises and plays
And can guide it to
Somewhere that’s safe
Where one can evince
At the evil in man
To the face of a member
Of a different clan
And feel that the truth
Is in hand
What kind of lamb
Stands above them
Prodding them on
Like rocks?
The shepherds have pilfered
Their flocks so long
No one expects anything
Anymore from God
Just a well-deserved
Spare of the rod
But the world has ended
Only to begin
The kept reptiles of
The Vatican
Can’t pour enough concrete
To erase the bones
The theorists of an end
Must dip into the fund
Of infinite debt
To make ends meet
And now the light
By which we read
The palpable word
And its no-longer mysteries
Will play on the eyelids
Of those who sleep
And the mind that can be freed
Can wander freely
Where the visible
Can be seen
And the formerly real
Can be allowed to be invisible
The chimeras we spent
Our frequencies chasing
Turn out to be no different from
The rituals of the mighty
It's kingdoms for a story
To believe in
The only problem
We want to know the end
So badly we forget
In the waiting is the meaning
