How the the last book might unfold
The darkest hours of the day
Are upon us indeed
No flour or bread
And speak not of butter
And measure the water
My master you denied, Said the Angel
who fluttered and cried
Repent if you prefer
And fire like a holocaust
Poison for our noses
Eliminate, Eliminate
The cores of our beings shaken
Forsaken for our sins multitudinous
As the Wrath of a God magnificient
Frowned upon and denied
That had simmered for a thousand days
And seventy times seven hours
Is poured out in a nuclear magma
Consumes the stubble of creations rankest
Mercy Oh mercy Lord, have mercy on us
