They so wish to believe
We posed as first parents;
Would you choose as father and mother
Chittering feral apes
Or lords descending from the stars
Reclaiming their dear lost children

Our 3-D aural projections convinced most
A few protested until
They met our army of ghosts
Past doubters make good priests

What are religions if not stories?
It’s a kick playing gods
And they like playing excited slaves
Constructing vast mansions for absent masters

Our client is pleased
She loves this world, its
Vast herds of birds and trumpeting elephants

But new terrors sleep within the earth
They must never realize
Everything you see hides something else