Without Your Reign Poem by Peter Eliastam

From time immemorial, mismanaged
By our misshapen mindset’s legacy,
Our dictatorial and sin-damaged
State has escalated to apostasy.

Its suicidal end, inglorious,
Life has become an “Ichabod” to us.
We do not recognise our God whose face
Alone commends us to the human race.

Our waning energies are now deployed
In digital phantasmagoria,
And maintenance of pleasures not enjoyed
But marketed with grim euphoria.

We seethe like displaced termites underneath
The floorboards of our heaps of sand,
The heritage we’re destined to bequeath
Posterity, imperilled in Your Land.