The Judge cares for just
is to universe entrust
ingress before dust
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It reveals itself in dogma and in mystical experience
So rote bespoke it
and from mystics inherit
sews life complicit
Distance from it is death
Turn away from life
and slice your feet on the knife.
That is ruin rife
Distance from it is hell
Pre or post death knell
turning away from God, hell:
all good you’ll dispel
It granted free will
We can be all shrill
and pick hurt until we’re ill:
God offers stock-still
It’s too powerful to be touched
Inasmuch to clutch
at Him is insomuch touch:
must stand without crutch
It’s not nature
Out of creation
God is space time dilation
and wants oblation
