Godless Gods
On nights when lightening is carving-
the canvas with it’s bloody, pointy nails-
which god will pray for Satan?
Which one?
Who will mold his heavenly-made pride
and then crumble it like a stone of written word-
mercy for that despised rebel, who’ll hath?
Aren’t we a draft of sorts…measureless imperfections.
Bless the puppet that got his own,
but who will pray for the murderers-
safety from the mobs justified wrath?
this what you wanted,
your design to interpret
strikes of your brushes?
-Wilkine Brutus
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