He took away her sea—
The raging waters of darkness
That had spat at her very existence—
Who had encroached whenever they could
To defile her dry land
And destroy the darling race
So as to stab at
The Ancient of Days
For the banishing
They had deserved.
He took away her sea
In due course—
Having patiently let the play run to its end—
The evidence heard—
The books opened—
It having let it be seen that
Some on the stage
Would choose the light over the darkness—
That they would cherish the Image
In which they had been created
And live in it by choice,
Even though they were made lower
Than the rebels who surrounded them.
When came the time,
The new sons of God were revealed
Upon the dry land—
And glorified and rewarded.
And the old ones in that sea railed
Against them and hated to the last moment—
Until the sea was cast into the fire
And the sea was no more.
And the champions went on to their new home,
Leaving the Earth to carry on anew.
And ever since,
Many have sought out the schemes
Of the old rebels,
Long-since gone to the fire—
As if none of it had ever happened
And no judgment had ever been made.
And their make-do sea is yet filled with evils,
Tormenting us all on our watch,
And helping us understand at least something
Of what came before.
But as for me,
I know of a place
Where there is no sea.
