Devoid of thought the saved ones serve,
as one they kneel and rise
lacking reason, words are cheap
Automata, blank eyed.
Lucidity does not exist,
The mind an empty shell
To serve in heaven drives men mad,
Tis’ better to reign in hell
King for a day or slaves for an eternity?
Repetitive strain of the mind
And as they chant in God’s green land
To feed supplicavore’s demand
Cerebral gears and mental springs unwind.
How slowly the cosmic gulag fails,
Plainsong choir or restless, howling gale?
Dissentient souls with broken minds,
They fail and divine organs creak and grind.
The blessed lungs labour fitfully
As one by one the saved go mad or die
Pillars of heaven fall the end is nigh
A vision of fire: behold, paradise!
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