Almighty's Fire Poem by Brett White

I see dreams of purification by fire,
With blood-red acid rain lighting the pyre:
Distant cries of birds can scarcely be heard,
Abandon ye all hope whom greed hast preferred,
Because hope is not conferred unto the evil,
But rest assured flames will pass by the steeple.
Wherefore art thou worthless baubles of gold?
Is this not a story from time immemorial told?
Man-licentious and wanton-has chosen ill,
Man-greedy and rapacious-has chosen to kill,
Don't you know, O vain man, that God alone creates?
While you with pride-over the plunder-debates,
Will the vortices of fire and death now show
That life and nature are not yours to bestow?
Is it such a novel concept to God Almighty bow?
To show mercy, grant peace, and the weak avow?
We've chosen instead the poor to quietly ignore,
Their pleas fall on deaf ears and on Heaven's door,
But the gatekeeper of all that was and is hears:
The lamentations of grief in the lowliest tears,
What a small thing it is for God to destroy
His creation with fire like an unwanted toy.
Maybe it will be when comets from Heaven rain,
That man will finally heed the poor crying in pain.