Fatherless Seed

I was created in your image. Manifested in pleasure and delivered in unfertile ground. Plummeted to a world of half truths, constitutional tyranny and fear. In my grasp I reached for your mighty roots that once held the soil so firm, but never more. I topple; falling lost among the darkened shrubs and dung beetles. My brown bark stripped away, by relentless sands, revealing white flesh of conquered past. Wicked erosion institutionalizes my fruitless journey leaving me with only deliberate despair. I branch out, but political correctness bounds me from talking to you in a way that you may understand, so I utter complete gibberish, sounding as of a child stumbling over its' first words. Pity me not; for I will nurture many fatherless seeds with my enlightened compost.