THE HARVEST

For I am two thousand years late,
Nature’s womb is no longer giving birth;
In this, cunning, Evil Age
Precious life is turning back into dirt;

Corrupt governments and vicious religions;
Life that can no longer suffice;
Hatred which raises our forsaken children;
Propaganda of self-inflicting lies;

Reap the sin and the vice
Sow virtue and wisdom
We can no longer abide
Under this world’s scum

The shattered mirrors, that reflects my soul,
Are where the unborn shall sleep;
Life is breeding death everyday,
The reason why I shall reap;

I am the Reaper, I am the God
Although, you must not fear me
I am your Taker, I am your Guide
I ask you just to forgive me