The leaders of song have rained song upon us
We, the readers, have read the wrath of the songkeepers;
Terrifying hiera anger is,
Tis so complex, yet so divine.
Divine as the moisture of rain
Divine as the sun when shines out bright
Divine as love when true
Divine is love,
But likewise terrifying when tis denied.
When tis but a pool of fakeness,
We will fade away quickly,
We did not recognize what was divine,
So Divine.
Did not recognize what was divine
Did not care for which was forever divine
We have not the heart to love,
To respect.
We do not even know why we are preaching it at the last hour
The hour when we are going to fade.
Now...Now, we are going
To the House of Hades, to be tormented for all eternity
We can but tis too late...
Late...late...
Guess...Guess...
What is so divine?
We fade away...
Author Notes: The poem above uses some Old English words used in the Elizabethan era. Such as, "their" is expressed as "hiera". Also, "it is" as "tis".
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