Conspiracy Theory

Conspiracy Theory




Talk about reincarnation!

Nero burned down Rome and blamed the Christians.

Bush knocked down the towers and blamed the Moslems.

Mahometans they were once called.

No Roman could have guessed

that the smoking pyres

Of Kerosene and flesh

were innocents,

the salt of the earth

and full of the Holy Ghost,

the light of the world.



Thirty billion was signed over

to the 'Industrial Military Complex'

on the day following the towers collapse,

into heaps of rubble and ash,

with charred firefighters and civilian bones

crushed under the weight

of terrorist plots.



Now I am not saying that the brotherhood of Islam is good.

And I am not saying that the 'In God We Trusters' are evil.

But I am colorblind,

cannot properly distinguish blue from green

when they are seen

In the same light.

Christian

Christian

And what if god was a we
Not a he or a she
And what if one person
Looked through all the same eyes
You wouldn't know
Because I wouldn't tell you

And what if I could find me
By looking into you
And you by finding we
Are joined by the same fear
We couldn't show
Because it would spoil us

Or should we just begin
To dismantle the whim
That we are separate
And begin to peer deep
Into the soul
That holds us both so dear

It is what we long for
To understand God as
The me in the you
To hold you as holy
As my only
Recognized purpose here

Hidden

Hidden

There is a smoke the angels make,
you can observe on a moonless night,
when the stars are eternally burning,
against the blackness of oblivion.

Follow the trail of the scentless rise
of vapors ascent against the sky.
Trace the line back to find it's source,
and see the face the angels make.

This of course is not their true form
but a visage created for you,
to humble the essence for the eyes of some
who would die at the full revelation.

For an angel is terrible to the mortal frame,
for the same reason you are warned
Not to utter the holy name.
You are human after all, and to approach the holy,
you must be hidden from the glory of the same.

For there is a smoke the angels make,
you can observe on a moonless night,
when the stars are eternally burning,
against the blackness of oblivion.