Walk the plank in outer space,
Men seek only to erase,
Creation from their scrutiny.
Sometimes subtle is their craft,
Carving idols out of stone.
Re-writing each and every draft,
Worshiping themselves alone.
Cemented their hypothesis.
Blind is their hypocrisy.
A codified calamity.
Facts won’t fit into their mold,
Trim and cut, refine, align.
Creation they fail to behold,
Surely denying what God designed.
His fingerprints they overlook,
Light and sound, emitting waves.
God’s word written a book,
Is the only word that saves.
Assemble, execute equations,
Place your pins upon a graph.
Ignoring Christ on each occasion,
The earless answer not, but laugh.
“There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, And desiring to be fed…
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