We abused you. It Was wrong. Here are the keys to Our mansion, yours now.
Put your violence to To the sword, forever, come, Be my son, again.
Burnt to ash. Dissolved. Split in two. Distilled. Released. Ascending, saw God.
Beaten, tired, dead. Screaming, bleeding, out of time. We are on our way.
Gentle people will Lovingly administer Our reborn world.
Spirit poor is the Lowest kind where you can’t go Nowhere else but up.