What of this time? Gone now the Age of the Young.
We’ve released that to which we once had clung
And Self has Surfaced, we’ve Stolen the Show
And Ego Abounds; we’ve set Youth down low
And Pride and Sin, all of us, we’ve Embraced:
Dying unto Self, we’ve all but Erased.
All must know now, the End is surely near.
Noticing it as such, they beg us Fear,
Asking if we can Turn their Fear to Hope
As our hands slip from the End of the Rope.
As we plunge, they know it’s too late,
Adoring selves, we’ve doled out their fate.
Our Eyes now shift, averted from our Shame.
They call this era by its proper name:
Century of Self; Titled by History.
As in Need ever of being Set Free.
Eons and Eons, Altered though the Same,
Savior needed to come and Heal the lame.
We to Baal still offer our sacrifice
As He shockingly Strives still to Entice.
Twenty Centuries since the Son did appear
With Grace to give for those willing to hear.
Will we now Understand it all for Him,
The Glory, the story stretched limb to limb?
On our Knees we will Fall, as a new name
We shall Receive; one that brings Forth His Fame,
Now a Remnant, a new generation,
Let’s give it to them as Proclamation.
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