The Prophet Darwin


I met a man who said to me,
Can you believe that God could be?
With all the stories that fossils tell,
The tales you tell don’t ring a bell
The only prophet my faith is in
Is an Englishman we call Darwin

I said to him suppose that I,
Believed that God was but a lie
That our Universe was born by chance
And God’s real name was “Happenstance”
That my forefathers were great big apes
Stumbling around searching for grapes
That good and evil on our whims depend
That death was the end that ends all ends
That this life we live is meaningless
With no real goal or great purpose

Then my dear friend I ask you this:
When the winds of hardship begin to hiss
And the nights of sorrow consume my cheers
And my face is washed by streams of tears
And my heart is broken like an old tree
And relief’s gatekeeper has tossed the key
And I find myself alone in darkness
With no one to speak to except my madness
Weak and broken, without any power
Can Darwin help me in that hour?

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