Part of it, we are, it seems
Always,
of this ‘subjective’ madness
More
pronounced even in our time
By the ‘truth’s
arch-fiends’
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Just a matter of personal opinion
For
them hiding under its pinion
Is
the question of a Being called God
Oft’ than not dismissed as mythical
But what could be more mythical?
Or
is it a case of being poetical?
Than
an applause for the weird,
What could be weirder?
For the defeat of goodness, they plot
As
would say, the Psalmist who taught
From
the world they seemed to have expelled
The
One whose it is
Now after our hearts they go
To
rid of it what remains, and so
Truths employed to
replace the Truth;
‘What is’ with ‘what applies to me’,
Kenosizing the earth of Divinity
And ripping off hearts, their Paternity
Are steps already taken
As they make a miscellany of gods
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