Tempest

All the good people are monotheistic

But it's only because they can't be realistic

They define a world that they don't understand

Try to speak languages they know they can't

Honestly living is founded in lies

Poets write symphonies played by the skies

Heaven devours the best of the world

But souls are worth nothing when truth is unfurled

And the bodies stack higher but no one is there

To mourn the relief of my tragic affairs

I could dig much deeper but I will not lie

These holes are worth nothing