The god of ego

In pure choice and consciousness
Would I never serve
The god of the ego.
Who is met in sorrow
On a road of shame and suspicion.



Sadness bids us
Bow to the god of this world,
The god ego holds in highest regard,
Yet, calling him god not at all.


All who are devoid of trust,
Those filled with envy,
Will be saved by ego’s great god.


In faithlessness, fear, and anger
Do the guilty look to this dark lord
As the only hope of salvation.
In a dismal, wretched and unsound world
Filled with anxiety and doubt.

Thus, does the world
Acknowledge the one god who can be counted on
To release them from misery and woe.

In fevered illness
Do they look to lie down
Under the headstone
Of the one sure god
Who offers relief
With the knowing
Of his inevitability.
For the lord of bones and dust
The ego serves will surely come,

Worshiped by a world
That knows only this god will set them free
From that which they’ve created.


Humanity waits for release,
Placing their trust
in the god they call
     Death.