God bless the world.
We have fallen along
the lenght of our sins.
We just need to be forgiven.
God bless us, please, please.
...
Please
...
Implying there's a God!
Implying we're not alone
with our pain!
Implying we're the good ones
created in his own image!
Painted by our sloth
we created his image,
and our pathologic
self-destruction,
our death-bearded brain
twitching with our sins,
there it is.
Lying.
Lying.
Lying in the floor
of the God's rubbish.
Lying to ourselves
with ideas of creating.
Creating a freedom
in our pain valley.
Creating the boredom
without wanting it.
Lying to the face
we appear to carry
and we believe to see!
Alone with the idea of God
we created
we are.
Alone with our dumbness.
Alone with our slumber
who came to our attempt to survive.
Alone with us,
in this invisible light.
We alone are.
