the shipbuilder was worried, it hadn't rained in days
sweat stained his face there as he prayed for ways
to put an end to this nightmare, the drought and sinning
crops could not sprout, beginning to doubt that he was winning
this good fight against the heathens who insisted to rebel
he consistantly would tell them to assist as he would fell
another tree for the ship that would save all of their souls
he'd say to the wallowing drones "be brave, follow your roles"
and warned they if they didn't, the Lord would smite them
he would not fight them if they blocked out the light then
but it would be their lives lost, a cost he didn't want to pay
...then, he didn't dare argue with the boss that ruled today

the shipbuilder did his job he was instructed to perform
what he constructed wasn't warm, but it erupted from the norm
of what people usually did in the area; heathens didn't like it
and instead of asking questions they decided they would strike it
with sticks and stones and flames, scaring the animals aboard
and it didn't just rain, it poured, soaking all the shore
the depth of the ocean rose, the land quivered in it bones
heathens ran in fear, standing near or taking shelter in their homes
in vain, they tried to swim when the water reached their necks
the shipbuilder had been right, the water did not breach the decks
they struggled towards his Ark, but found that they swam to slow
their generation was stunted, but now Noah's crops could grow

Peace

__________________
Life isn't a bitch...
she's just sick of being personified -Sage Francis