John Milton wrote Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained. After he died, his soul looked all around like a baby crying for the mother for seven days. The guardian angels took his soul to a world as per his belief patterns in after life. He was dumbfounded to see and find nothing as he believed or taught in his flesh. Every thing is different after death. The guardian angels took care of his doubts.

On stage, in greenroom, when we play or in rest, in war or peace

Kids only played all roles bringing us name above all these bees;

It is up to me to surrender all things to you after I drink this cup;

Yet it’s not my will; why you forsook these babes and their pop

Are you grown old, lost interest, or hate the kids as ones illicit;

On stage you called them vipers, fathers of liars and pigs of pit

Now look at the kids and the earthly kingdoms I made of them;

Take them or leave them to me; I gave them powers to become

My children giving them your works, logos, names and glories

They go out and teach all victims to make disciples of heresies

With spirit tricks to show miracles, speak in tongues, cast demons

Drink poison yet live, to be lifted up as brass serpents for Romans;

Let them leave those human bodies and return to hell to be at rest

Or else they will fulfill ‘Satan against Satan’ prophesy with quest

They’ll beget thousands of denominations, sects and the dogmas

And forget the original aim to lead Israel astray with new nomos

The time is short and the aim is long, unless get revived they fail

If you still act like the Old Pharaoh, they will leave us to this Jail

And work for the humans as friends, to create mortal heavens;

They’ll ignore, disbelieve all hell torments and lies of havens

And go on changing the bodies from humans, beasts or birds

And will never come to your rebirth cycle of bondage wards;

They would be born again and you can’t find them in flesh bodies;

You can’t even see them, only hear sounds of their spirit maladies

Flesh is flesh and spirit is spirit; they know how to fly in both

Worlds of two births, two deaths, two dips, two ways of sloth

Two resurrections, many bands of child play groups;

Spewing at each other, on the stage as Divine dupes

Give ear and listen carefully, they’re redebating Exodus;

Stoning or crucifixion; adoption or redemption; rumpus

Either way, for the bodies human they steal; dead, in coma;

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