Word Flow (God Controls)
The universe is quiet; widespread and tranquil. Our existence is a barbaric reminder to God that we are not perfect. He created us in hope of a beautiful experiment. God’s ambition follows us. A mass genocide could happen under his command. We will listen without a third thought. Every person has a goal, created by him, for him. Our malnourished bodies all somewhat the same. Under that commanding control we will stand, barley united. Hanging on to the last hope of our twisted future.
This poem is about:
Our world