We, That Reared Head Poem by Onoma 888

Do, wager these untoward
motions- that what errant way
of soul they spend be sanctified.
By God's pin-up sun...whose
overtly apologetic moon shall
bear its skull forever more.
We, that reared head...over and
above- shallow and below.
In keeping with us- Coming has
fulfilled itself.
What more to ask the God of our
begetting?
That the thing that God left, is as
God left it...a promise to a promise.
The way of light, way of dark- never
went back on their word, we attest...
infinite and self-congratulatory.
...Let us pray, as we pray in our
keeping, effortlessly so.