Monday, 1 August 2005

A Letter Upstairs

Dear Man-WoMan-Supreme Being Upstairs,

Can you fix the trust you broke? Can your people stop pretending that you can fix everything? Can you stop your priests from preaching their little fabricated stories? I want to hear the truth from your lips. Just call me another doubting Thomas.

So now that we have reached this impasse, what can you say to me that will make it all ok? What can we do to go back to the way we were, the way things used to be?

When I believed that you were/are omnipresent, omniscient and all powerful... and lay peacefully asleep in my bed at night thinking happy thoughts, believing happy ideas and living a happy lie. Fluffy bunnies all over the place and candy clouds in the sky.

Until things got broke and you couldn't fixit.
Until lives were lost and you couldn't do a thing
Until sorrows were suffered which you couldn't relieve
Until hurts were caused that you couldn't heal

Sometimes some things can't be fixed.
Sometimes they aren't meant to be.
Life here is only temporary after all. A trial-by-fire passage of sorrows, suffering and continual despair.
All we can do is fight, while you watch on,
Contemplate our strength of character.
Sordid abuser.

I forgive you your flaws anyway.
Will you forgive mine?

Scrub that
I don't need your forgiveness
I need an explanation for all this shit going on
For all the crap
For all the bombings
For all the genocide
For all the sorrow
For all the death
What world is this?


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