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.