That which is born of the flesh remains flesh

And I am altogether new to me

After my born-again episode,

When I failed to connect

With the wishful promises

Of heaven’s rostrum motivators.

 

I exclaimed I was born to die

I will find my own spirit

And give it a realistic name

Something which rhymes with life

And make something of it in between,

For I am the Lie.

 

Believe this, for it is still spoken of on the Earth,

And is repeated and interwoven with other lies

That the greatest Lie existed long ago,

and it was formed out of water

and through water by the words from clouds,

and that by means of these the world that then existed

was deluged with water and was changed.  

And by the same words the Lie’s believers around

that now exist became stored up for fire,

being kept for the days of the destruction of dissent,

And one day is as a thousand years,

and a thousand years as one day,

for the Lie is not slow to fulfil its promise as some count slowness.

 

The Lie is patient toward dissent, not wishing that it should perish,

but that dissent must reach repentance.  

And the time of the Lie has come like a pillaging thief,

expecting that dissenters pass away with a roar,

and dissenting bodies be burned up and dissolved,

and the earth and its works that were done is changed.

And since all things dissent are thus to be dissolved,

the sort of life ought to be a life of fantasy and hope,

 waiting for the coming of the day of the figure of the Lie,

long after dissenters have been set on fire and dissolved,

the dissenting bodies having melted as they burn!

For, according to the Lie’s promise there awaits a heaven

and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.