Shrinking Cubicles

Tonight this cubicle smells like a stately office of mahogany,
But the truth is I've been away from home to long and it's tranquility is haunting me.

Intertwined into the facade of comfort weaves turmoil
In the absence of contentment lust suffocates the soil.
Little fruit is found springing from perverse ground,
Where theory and reality are disconnected amazing grace is simply sound.

Neutered religious men wage personal battles ,
While war goes unnoticed and people are treated as cattle.
I blame the herding mentality for much of this calamity,
But the ignored story is that we're all to blame for the destruction of the great city.

While luxury and entertainment enable the deceiver to succeed,
Evil is more powerful than our consuming lives concede.
But in the midst of disillusionment and emasculation,
The Great King and Master raises His army in every nation.
Persevering through man's boxes and disassociation,
The few ignite passion and stir the chosen.

Wealth is rotting and success is misunderstood,
Sports, pensions, happiness, and fornication, straw, hay, stubble, and wood.

Illusions of safety are gladly bartered for slavery,
Comfort is praised and acceptance is seen as bravery.
But the spirit is busy spurring those with eyes to see,
All those with ears to hear, listen, the time is near.

The silhouette of fluorescent light highlights this shrinking cubicle,
We've created a world so sanitary humanity has become mythical.
And with no identifiable struggle uniting the masses,
We're all eating, drinking, and sleeping as our destiny passes.
But thankfully the Creator and Sustainer keep His covenants,
And the Great King and Master is coming to restore the innocence.

Wealth is rotting and success is misunderstood,
Sports, pensions, happiness, and fornication, straw, hay, stubble, and wood.
The Spirit is busy spurring those with eyes to see,
All those with ears to hear, listen, the time is near.