Like Souls Rising From the Dead
by Michael Doyle

Hidden symbols press the conscience
And then denies the separation of science
From the spirituality of all things true
This is independent of a fearful point of view

Morals only tend to get in the way
Of moments of greatest that bring the new day
There behind God's holy and sacred veil
Are these hidden truths that the godless seek to reveal

As the winter storm gathers and is frightening
The scientists seek to harness it's lightning 
Blasphemous prayers bring consequential anger
It extracts its price and makes God a stranger

Greed for such knowledge as is barred by the confessor
Comes with the price of killing the professor
Eighteen mirrors equal eighty-one in palmistry
Giving the ninety-nine names to God, in His majesty

It is there engraved in our hands that we dearly clasp
In prayer, as we ward off Satan like a venomous asp
The palms of our hands bring the light outshining
All past lights known before in their great divining

There is the one light that gives life
Knowing its own way past the cosmic strife
However, once it passes, it blocks all other light
Cutting through Mother-Nature's womb to bring back the night

New life will be born like the great phoenix rises
It brings new meaning before the passing sun rises
And the fallen angels sign out like a hellish choir
Setting this craven world into its eternal fire

Lost souls seek out each other's company
They are mired with pain that knows our sympathy
Like those damned to darkness, seek the morning sun
The cursed wish only that their evil might be undone

(c) November 4, 2023  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved