An antique, a book of suggestion.
Holy specters serenade faded men.
God showed us his lesson.
“Know Thy’ Expression”.
“Thee’ who cultures me will be pleased.”
A word, An Anthology, educated to be breathed excitably.
Concrete the ideal may-be.
Wavering disguise laid upon his mission.
A nuclear fission.
Boom!
We crawl back, we inch – He does not flinch.
“The temporal is but the scaffolding of the eternal”
Hells infernal.
Dissolving time with fervent heat.
He cannot be beat.  

Seconds before our change of mind,
We left him out to dry.
“No need for this inadequacy.”
He give none but broken lies!
How cruel we are to our savior.
Fools to think the, “son of the dawn” would no longer pawn.
We ask for Forgiveness, our opinion.
Suckle his divinity as if there is an infinity.
Affinity for confession, broken down lessons.
Consider it dead.