God is afoot,
You can tell so by his silence.
I lit a candle
In ode to the thin spectral steps
That revolve the hallway
Like the gears inside a clock.

Life is afoot;
Predetermined dust gregarious in nature
Tied to lovely love
and hatred towards
The memories that made us

God is afoot
And history is his pastime.
God is afoot
And it changes nothing, for the dead
Still have nowhere to roam...