A Soldier leans back in his seat,
Behind a screen and creates a new disease.
To palm the world; watch it slowly die at your feet,
Could not make me any more pleased.
Being an Old Testament God,
Helps the lonely feel complete,
More confident and less odd,
And finally construct something concrete.
That soldier clicks on the mouse, gains approving nods,
But is caught by the commanding elite.
And while the real world is all the time growing diseasy,
Some real God stares down at I, the soldier, and gets queasy.