We Just Have Our Little Lives (A Homage to Under the Dome) – Day 257 and 258



“Wicked Tidings”Day 257
Wicked tidings fall from heaven like dust
And honeysuckle and dew rise from hell;
An aroma that one would think flew from above.
The eye in the sky speaks truth,
While he who lies in darkness weaves lies.

We Just Have Our Little Lives (A Homage to Under the Dome)Day 258
Herein formalities mean nothing
While children run amuck.
We patter about as the fire blooms
Erupting from God’s screaming mouth.
Up against the barrier we wait,
And we pray for the end
And we hope for help;
But we are seperated from them.
We are but ants to them.
We just have our little lives.

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