Showbread Sex With Strangers
our ship is enveloped by the shadow
of the spaceship that's adrift overhead
it cuts through the cosmos like we through the sea
on solemn sails of stoic lead
soon will they descend on us like fissured masks of
clouded jewels
and i proclaim that i'm lord of myself and become the
lord of fools
the crowns that sing the song of sirens, drifting
shadows in the deep
anticipating our arrival like eyes within its murky
keep
do you have a hand in it?
is yours the only hand in it?
are we to believe there's really no evil, it's just
made to look like it?
do you had a hand in it?
is yours the only hand in it?
and i can't help but wonder if we were helpless to
resist
is a God that is so sovereign also a God that takes no
risks?
i am haunted by the specter of possibilities escaping
if what God does is always good and could happen no
other way
then it would not be good if one less died or if one
more soul was saved
if my actions are all orchestrated according to holy
design
why is it that wars, gas chambers and the raping of
women are not divine?
if the almighty forced our hands and lined us all up
into place
how can he then look upon this evil with contempt and
turn away his face?
Augustine wrote it in a book and dragged Calvin and
Luther along
suffice it to say the wisest of wise can be so
disastrously wrong
