Poet vs. God

Dear Lord,

The voices of nature so deep that when one hears

It cuts one by the ear

The feelings of love so  wild that sensations are benignly  ruined

Oh, mighty Lord. The cosmos and the stars! My soul was all yours.

Thoughts are active as electrons, atoms, and volcanos erupt

Everything vibrates; clearer than ever, brighter than eyes can see, or one could imagine.

Into a never ending cycle of  structures and deformations, life and death.

Now I am a part of living, now I have a brain, and ears to listen: speak to me nature!

Hail your storm at me and to the living dead. Show your self and dance 

To the suffering, voidless love, and sensations and deaths that are yet to be formed

To the wrath of what you have become, sing to me the song with the most demonic voice of all.

Now, that I have everything! Everything I own. Everything I know.

Lest you shall become, more I shall be.

Open as a mind can be, wide as wings can fly

What is there that I cannot be!

Your life, the knowledge of everything, the soul, is all that you can be.

For I am a part of all that is yours, a mind of my own, is all that it takes

To give a blow at everything. Not shall I remain, not shall the rest be,

For that is all you can be, not become, all that you are.

You have become ruthless, incomplete.

I stand before you, a mortal, to challenge, to die,

To fight, to feel the depeest of thoughts, come what may,

What structure, form, deform, or law you hold, you order, show yourself

I shall have my self to you, the imperfect being on you.

I shall pass it onto those who seek to know.

Your mistakes, the flaws, in creation of this beautiful world, for us,

By your default, shall collapse onto everything, everytime, every second.

Oh! Mother nature, how weak can it be?

If by prestige you are perfect, by name all that is good, could you not design well.

The perfection you desire is all but fake.

Why do you even let me be, an imperfect soul as I speak to you

Of your imperfections, throwing right into your face

Like a candle that is about to die, a bridge fall,

A touch numb, love hatred...

Or are you that funny, my lord.

To tease the crap out of mortals, 

To quote, "ignorance as bliss"

To let us yet crave for truth.

Truth or stupidity

Life and death

Sensation or numbness

Feelings and submission

My ruthless poetry or your imperfect creation

We shall see 

Come what may

Lord, show me if you are!

With love,

The poet