You cry, you scream, you ache, you agonize:
No one above is listening.
You writhe, you quake, you blame things on what demons make:
Merely illusions of what you wish.
Toil, shake, point the finger at honest men:
"The divine will save me."
You give blessings, you drink of blood, you curse others' fates:
And all for what?
A perfect world would indeed have a creator, a creator's purpose, and divine justice to watch over all of time and space.
But what you don't get:
That creator is you...
