The nature of the world, like time, is tough to figure out its plan, of none, and all. It picks you up high, like clouds, enough to see the entire world, but then, you fall. The nature of the world, like God, is odd, seemingly randomly set, yet firm, and true. Though it is wild and bold, so planned, and not at the same time wild, or bold; made for you. Up and down, right and left. So close and yet so far. Wisely planned, fully deft, God's hand and mighty arm. Hath touched our soulful life, to stop another's strife, to usher in our doom, through ne'erending gloom, that fades away in shame in minutes, all the same as melancholy souls; yet He will fill our bowls. We're in good hands, and in good plans. All is well that ends well, and if it's not well it ends not, it ends not when you stop, it ends only when skies drop, years after we're Up Top.
Why am I not proud of this one as much anymore?
Well, I think I made some weird choices in meter. I don't like sacrificing meter unless it serves a good purpose, or vaguely, unless it's "worth it". I really don't think it was "worth" sacrificing meter here, especially when the first two stanzas would otherwise be quite strong.
I also don't identify with Christianity that much anymore.
I struggle to grasp what I was trying to say with this one. I used to be affected by platitudes a lot more than I am now, and one of my favorite platitudes was "All is well that ends well, and if it isn't well, it's not the end". I don't think it's a bad mantra to have, but I don't find it very helpful anymore. I might just be a jaded asshole.