Manufactured Reality Poem by Charles Hancock

Life is but a manufactured reality
Perpetual birth, followed by mortality
Seasons come and seasons go
Nothing more than quid pro quo

The cunning serpent was deceitful
Thus our struggle with good and evil
Like the ocean tides rolling in and out
'Tis nothing new to write home about

Those who idolize their heart of stone
Build up walls so they can die alone
Their worlds don't stop turning
Until their souls are forever burning

Some storms brighten up the night
So lowly sinners can see the light
Petty lives of greed, lust, and despair
Turned around with a simple prayer

Hands that used a carpenter's square
Showed us love beyond compare
Choose to have faith and to believe
Eternal life is what you'll receive