A voice crying out in the wilderness
Hard edged (unreality) you face away from my immediacy (candour eschewing) inimically you parody, offering as nice the complexity of ''vice''exploiting even nature
(as voyeur and narrator) your intention anethema to the nations,
as you coerce ''your creation'' encouraging over consumption,
with a hard nosed gumption, yet my God who is greater
is no longer willing to be a waiter!sickle in hand he is walking his land,
with the sun as his shadow is this (One)
to be Hallowed..!