I sang a song and gained fame.
I wrote the words and became a household name.
I invented great wonders and accepted the glories.
Oh, this I society and its puffed up stories!
It thinks it is free to fly,
and, yet, in bondage it struggles to try.

I healed the soul, body and mind,
for you see, I am a special kind.
I built rockets and flew to the moon.
Why, I even developed the flowers that bloom.
Oh, this I society and its self-acclaimed wonders!
You well tremble, for God’s wrath greatly thunders!

I am judge, jury and executioner of law.
Before I, even nations tremble and fall!
Why, pray tell me, who is better than I?
I, who can cast the mote from your eye.
Oh, I, be damned and committed to hell!
For the devil’s number you have and his name you spell!

Truth is, I created whore mongers, murderers, liars and cheats,
only to fall by the wayside, I— lying in defeat.
I— cannot glory in itself and claim belief,
nor out of its mire can it dredge up relief!
For all that is created, invented and healed,
the glory to God, or I— won’t be heavenly sealed.

* * * * *

Published 1990: Versus (National Authors Registry) 
                2002:  Buzzle eZine
Pseudonyms:  Elizabeth Corvin 
                      Lindsey Quesinberry