Why would such a merciful god place blame and curse for blasphemies not yet relieved from my skin?
I do not believe that such a man would create such a woman
I do not believe that a man would set a series of situations solely meant to siphon the sensibility that he has so sanctimoniously sanctioned upon thee
I know that I am right; even if I am wrong I am right
There is no man above sightseeing in the clouds
Crying tear to create floods
Clapping jovially to move mountains
Striking in anger at what his own hands have created
I do not know…
Better yet I don’t want…
I need to know why such a woman would breathe
Why such a woman would have the ovarian fortitude as to impose such regulations that regular people can not see through the red tape
Why won’t she let me in?
How the did the imaginary man?
Where did this journey begin?
Where did I lose her?
Who cut the cables?
Why are we not able to see past the prior inquisitions to see to a less tumultuous future.
To see to a movement,
The imaginary man gave us lips to speak but we not use them but for treachery
He gave us hearts but not to use them, rather keep them empty to filter the fantasies and poison seeds
Rival memories of black books
I can say that I hope for the best but that would be a lie
It’s not right for the night imaginary inflammatory impostor to take credit for the beginning of this being if he not willing to take the solder of his own smoldering brimstone.