The Atheist
Science defines my virtue.
Factual and fictional books are my domain.
Don’t speak to me of pixies, fairies, and unicorns,
Or of your monopoly on morality, love, faith, and shame.
I am what I am
And of what I do I claim my own.
I fight for my survival
Of which need not be told, judged or shown.
There is no all knowing
Or an immortal god of my fate he will judge.
For when my heart ceases to beat
It will return from whence it came, a kind of primordial sludge.
And when I die
I will not be present to lend a single care.
I spent my life living
Where cowards do not dare.
Do not ask me to have faith.
Do not ask me to prove love.
Do not ask me to define absolutes.
For I know absolutely, there is no god above.
I claim we are all one human race,
Merely here because of some random demise.
The purpose of my existence,
Is equal to other humans, including apes, birds, and flies.
Nothing of life can be proven,
Nor of life I can disprove.
I live by a faith in myself;
I am my own god, a perfect image of myself which cannot be improved.
Copyright © Martin Braun | Year Posted 2018
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