The Cycle

The Jolly Mother Idol, imbued in a civilization
Ancient, and now gone... their Neolithic
Art of cattle and human skulls,
Which were made into displays
And arm rests,---their paintings of the hunt
Scribed throughout the world on cave walls;
Their houses of clay, with roof streets
And well kept, with ovens and warm spaces.
It was destroyed by, yes, the Flood.

Then arose the Semitic Pantheon
Of Baal-El, Baal, and Asherah.
And they arose, to their gross heights.
They built upon their civilization,
Ancient and ubiquitous.
And then Israel wiped them out,
And finally Rome when it had conquered Carthage.

And then Rome had grown, and grew to great stature.
It grew, it grew, it grew, and the Greek Pantheon
Ruled the world. And soon it brought chaos
By its lusty and rapturous gods,
And like Hyenas they wafted from Male to Female
And from Female back to Male;
And what chaos it did bring!
Until the Christians converted Constantine
And with Peace, did Christianity cover the world.

And as a last age, will not the wicked raise the idol once again
Gaia, mother Earth, and the Titans overthrown
By the new Pantheon, Greece overtaken by War
And its pantheon of comfort, prosperity and food and drink.
And then, at last, the creature raises from the depths
And causes all men to worship it;
Worship the Earth, so that the gods and goddesses
Can fly upon their chariots, and live by their arcane magic.
And the poor upon the earth shall lament, and take up this cry
Against the wicked generation, they shall Cry for Christ
And His age, for at least then there was peace.