God On Trial

I feel I simply must profess, your efforts to capture me of great success, Is all for naught, I volunteered, You imagined a cloud I sit, like a child’s ignorant daydream, When in truth my presence is beyond what could be feared. I’ll play this game, my reputation now smeared, But I am judge, jury, and executioner. When night falls you fail to see it as my shadow, Like venting emotions to an insect, but I’ll try, Your family’s fate was written long before I inherited you, You cry “murderer” and point soiled fingers to the sky. Pouring blacktop over lush fields and still wondering why, Your thoughts are far from prioritized. My words translate short and unsympathetic, but I assure you, This will be nothing more than a misdemeanor, Take solace in your dreams, which I have provided to you in full, No longer will I view this, in the final act I play intervenor. The less you spawn the more this world is cleaner. I swore to tell the truth, and nothing but. The defense rests.