Psalm 17 – History

I will love thee, O Mother, my strength
Of nature, deliverance of all that is
Natural, without Man’s arrogance
Even these scriptures and doctrines

Carry the stamp of Man’s incapability
To write truth that is lasting
In my distress I will call upon thee
Universal Mother, when all the Gods

Have come and gone, passed like
The imaginary sanctuaries of the weak
I will call upon thee, O Mother
And cry to your Oceans, and with your

Forests watch as the cities crumble
I do not praise my kind, Mother
They have been as a darkness over
The fields, ungodly Americans and the

White Man’s order of hierarchy
Imaginary stocks and false economies
A devoring Capitalism that eats up its own people
With a debt that is nearly worthy of praise

For the vanity of such a civilization
Can quickly come to an end, like
The Fall of Rome or the drying up of the Nile
And if a period of darkness follows

This collapse Mother, I shall not weep
Knowing that for every fallen empire
A New World is born, such are the cycles
Of these lonely years, when the Highest voice

Warns us of the calamity of prophecies
Great Mother, I would plunge all of God’s work
Into the Oceans, like Atlantis, for one more
Chance at a better variety of humanity.