The Final Age® twill be perceived
By those Ascending Mountain A
With whimsy is the Word rephrased
The Fathers are outraged!
Beware the Ologies my peers
Religions bind and dogmas klatch
Beware the Funde Mental Bird and shun
The Frumious soul savers snatch.
Now take these Verbal Swords in hand
No Old. No New. No tongue to snare
Rest beneath this Figment Tree
Pause A-while in prayer.
Before this Final Age® we stand
All cherubim with unknown names
Now striding back to Promised Land
We slice away our shame.
Alphabeta. Come! A. B. The A Ascent
the verbals, whirl-ing purify
so gyre or gamble on the Wor(l)d
the veil is drawn aside.
(Time to ascend to Final Kabballah)
You inspired this poem, so i ask you to comment please.