Narrative

He existed alone, So he decided to build; To fill his emptiness, With any sort of thrill. He was merely a man, He had his mortal needs. He thought, I'll have a son, Perhaps with hands like these. But once he had his son, He still could feel unrest. Perhaps just seeking fun, He then devised a test. he journeyed to a field, And there planted a tree. He fenced off the branches, And he then cursed the seed. He then created us, such a curious breed. But said you all are dammed, Should you eat from the tree. And eat the fruit we did, Just like He knew we would. So he sent us his son, And planned for nothing good. But then a prayer rang out, Unlike any before. It crashed throughout his head, Just like an ocean's roar. ” no man should ever have, To bury his own son. Regretfully I see, that's what you've gone and done. To just what lengths, Are you willing to go? You'd have your people pray, But would it feed your soul? You've done all this of your Own godd*mned sick free will, So would you make some haste, Or could you just be still?” He never thought that we, Something he built of dirt, Could leave our deity, Stripped of all his false worth. He clenched his fists in rage, No creation of his, Would leave him in the dust, With a feeling like this. He sent us plagues of wrath, Our streets were lined with blood. Dead first-born aftermath, Does this sound like it should? We trust this angry child, To lead our only lives. Then when his games are done, His toys are tossed aside. ” no man should ever have, To bury his own son. Regretfully I see, that's what you've gone and done. To just what lengths, Are you willing to go? You'd have your people pray, But would it feed your soul? You've done this all of your, Own godd*mned sick free will. So would you make some haste, Or could you just be still?”