Fathers Of Gods

Fables and tales, hyperbolic epistles, religious scriptures

Our forefathers gratuitously ordained despotic strictures...

In the beginning? Time flows in a circle without beginning or end

And it's only matter that's aeonian, despite what they've penned

For it's all about destruction and re-creation and their peculiarity

Forever reshaping the darkness of the void without a singularity

When we became 'conscious' there was ignorance without knowledge

So our forefathers sired gods and then coerced us into a faux homage

And behold! There were structures and plans and they could foretell

From Apollo to Zeus, although Mars was long dead and Venus is hell

They couldn't comprehend, so we were told to believe

In a supernatural order, of which they had to perceive

Inner sanctums of the past is where they sat down to think

And concluded that our existence must be more than a blink

We were blinded by faith and every crusade was a calamity

For we were never the children of gods, or any singularity

So there's no hope in our prayers, for worlds are destroyed

As we are left with our unrealities and our gods unemployed

In the end? Time circulates matter with new courses to wend

And from this maelstrom of mayhem we will never transcend

But all of our gods are as one and are dwelling with Aether

Their stories are old and the Almighty itself is not a believer...

By chance we are alive, with the others and what are the odds

Of us being here and still reciting the words of fathers of gods?