fortnight

 

 

It must be lonely to live without a god.

 

I wonder about goodness.

 

Terrible to think there is nothing

after all of this.

 

Yet there she stands, each one of her,

but I can imagine others

 

and that’s the sad fact – being human,

there’s nothing left to do.

 

So I annihilate reason, bad prophet,

and recourse the rebound

of my profits – without regret –

 

the plain mock of reason –

 

doesn’t belong here.

 

Neither do I.

 

 

©2007 wfairbrother

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