The days of creation; hereafter's consequences
By physicalgraffiti
I don't want to breathe.
I don't want to think.
I pray for a lost heartbeat,
I wish for a permanent blink.
The constant in my life,
is a simple hope for death.
if only i could leave today,
to end it all with a final breath.
I ask you God,
how come, how come
you allow your "sheep" to go astray?
you allow your love for us to be so numb?
Are you sitting in heavan,
watching us suffer?
scurrying like rats,
trying to become tougher.
Well thank you God, Thanks a whole fucking lot.
for this "beautiful world", and these lives that we got.
Thanks for the car accidents and the fatal diseases,
for the love so little known, and the hatred that never ceases.
In sunday school they remind,
"he created the world in just seven days."
but what they forgot to mention,
is that you abandoned us here, lost in a sinful haze.
You left us here to decompose, you left us here to die.
and sometimes i wonder, if when you're sitting on your throne high,
you take a real look down on us,
and simply break down and cry.
I know i would if i were you...
But i'm not...
"Thank God"
Comments on "The days of creation; hereafter's consequences"
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A former member wrote:
I don't belive in god and after reading this piece I don't think you do ether. But if you do, all I ask is that you read the above poem again