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Your God
I stare where the ocean and the land converge,
I await the tidal wave, the fist of your god, from the horizon's emerge.
Slowest minutes. Glacier slow, cold as a corpse and it never repairs.
Your god, he lost love for me. Why would he have ever even cared?
My spirits are lower than the dirt that compose my shape.
What did I ever do to him? My heart beats without hate.
Fear behind my face, the water has begun to shift.
Sucking back into the sea, I view the horror of the gift.
Out of my mind, far away from that dreary, malice, toxic land.
No more tears, whisked to my crypt where the ocean hugs the sand.
