Not headed for the cliff, we drove off long ago,
Falling frictionless, in mankind’s Winnebago.
Born into a weightless world, sensing not the fall,
In comfort floating freely, effortlessly, big and small.
Our destination distant, we focus on the ride,
Accidental entities where body, soul collide.
Death, decay, realities within our paradigm,
Our eternal soul, divorce we from our mind.
Resorting to our own beliefs, with others we combine,
Form humanized solutions, at peace within group mind.
Temporary feel good tricks, to sedate the soul,
Many deeds unhealthy, on bodies take their toll.
Our souls resist the very fix to right their lost condition,
We worship first ourselves, ignore the great physician.
His Word is both the diagnosis and the surgeon’s knife.
Allowing him to operate on you will save our life.