Maranatha Poem by Quame Boatmann

So this is your desire
Man-oh-man
To sit in the throne of your creator
And make the world your own
Oh fragile flesh
And disregard your maker
Oh foolish as you are

My heart aches as I behold
The display of foolishness
In the counterfeited synagogues
As the lay down commands are flouted
In the book of days
And man is the center of worship
And modernization is emphasized
All in the name of civilization

Even a diakonia is chosen
By his pedagogic background
And the lay-down orders
Are looked down upon
And ecclesia is defined
By its finest temple

The enemy is a hard worker
Many have perished
And more are still straying
So Lord, come