Michael's Manifestation at the Burning Bush

                                                                 “                  I               ”                                                              am        a    flame,  a         pi                                                              not     circle   *   based    but                                                                    soul     defined within   mote                                                                                                                                          molded,   laced before    time’s                                                          tincture in    creation’s      craw.                                                       I’m Michael,     arched     archangel,                                                armed to claw!  My   one   star centered orb                                              illuminates below the             Great “I AM” as                                            He berates the dearest              of the dear concerning                              Law…THE Law…THE LAW!              How much more He need                  draw?  You yearn His thunder’s voice                from High above?  Prepare, then,            deafness the price for His love.  You pine                 His visage?  Sun, no more. to see?        You wish to touch to no more touch the we?                I come to warn of vision’s visit NOW!    No time remaining, seen by flaming brow.    In              love, He rages, trembling through His thought      that Man will not absorb lesson’s taught.  Hell’s        Bells?    Not Satan’s, but Heaven’s Bells rung,        announcing His      intention’s Plan, choir sung; beyond a million billion souls to ban, He weeps,          in constant, for       one noble man.  John’s Last Reveal too distant for your      lines?      Then               open eyes,         behold the timely signs                that lie before your daily,     dated bread                 and bless          all loving kindness                            true, instead.  Despite              these                     flames           emitted warmly                                   pained, I, too, regale            these                       acts;              agape gained                                        through sorrow                 while                    recast                souls ascend                                      beneath God’s                    feet                 from                      now until the             END.           Now, Michael’s                       task               is                                through, his                             duty done.  I AM                             the                                      Burning Bush of                  Moses, one; half seen,                        half not, as needed                and as not, you have remained to find that which you’ve sought.  Ablaze, I AM, with burning    mission’s goal, to plead, not scold, within earth’s mountains’ mole, because mankind so teeters tightrope’s tweak, due tightness tense, that even I am meek.  Your power’s poignant, finite be it be; impressive, though,          for such a being free, but what price to pay for knowledge known?  Apocalyptic nightmare slowly                       shown?  This joy?  Unlikely, but, perhaps a dream of Mine with ending certain by a stream                                          where Adam/Eve establish Heaven’s place beneath the solar system’s blazing face.                                                                                         Mohammed, Jesus, Moses, Buddha, all;                                                                                                               yes, even Vishnu answers to My call                                                                                                                      but violent hatred never answers true                                                                                                                      because of lies, below the sun, anew.                                                                                                                   My time is over, ending at the start,                                                                                                               Where Alpha and Omega merge apart                                             throughout existence; billions came and went but, through it all, I’ve watched and, needed, sent.