The OMNIs

How boring to exist as God, to know

The end from the beginning, to see,

To watch predicted futures always grow

As augured in your three-sixty degree,

Predestinated plan, unending strength

In all locations, present, future, past

All held at once in everlasting length,

A 3D eternity, where, at last,

At first, and always there is no escape

Since memory and foreknowledge are stain

Because no set of instruments can scrape

The unremitting contents of your brain.

  If I were God, and therefore could, I’d doom

    Myselves to death forever in Christ’s tomb.