Then At Last You’ll Be Made To Know

You think, it seems to me,

That you possess all authority

To do as you will, just as you please,

To make us fall down on our knees

And prostrate flat to worship you,

Promptly doing what you order us to,

And that with the Earth and all in it

You can do just as you deem fit.

You strut about like a grand potentate,

Imagining yourself to be oh so great,

Assuming that you can dictate

Each and every creature’s fate,

Pretending that you've full control

Over every mind, body and soul.

Tragic though this seems to be,

In a sense, it’s quite funny,

For, when to the Lord back you’ll go

Then at last you’ll be made to know

That the blunder you made was truly grave,

And that there’s nothing now that can save

You from the fate that you must bear:

Hellish suffering, complete despair,

This being the just reward

For seeking to replace the Lord

And believing that you could do

With the world just as you wanted to,

Not caring this basic fact to recognize

(Being so deluded by your own lies):

That this world that you claimed to own

All along belonged to the Lord alone.