The Rouge of Potential
God must be playing marbles with the planets...
It's Earth's turn to be in the palm of his loving hand.
For millennia, mankind had its chance at the loom.
Endless wars, lust, and greed are all he could weave.
Now we're perched between God's thumb and forefinger.
Soon he'll flick us to the outer edges of his patience.
Branded a cold and hopeless snot ball of darkness.
As he reaches for another sphere, rouged with potential.
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