Such delicious sentiments,
Hell’s fire, harps, purity,
Can’t surmount their local requirements.
Inside our walls are the temples we build.
He is, who is!
Encounters Zeus’s throne, a local rock.
We know of death,
We do not know death.
Graveyards offer the quintessential poster
Here belief relieves anxiety
And god is a burning bush
Making the earthly separateness endurable.
Fashioned of such material
We need not wonder why
The unknowable is.
We cannot enter and require lesser gods.
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