The Faith Chronicle: Gods Plan

I do not understand your plan,angel (2)
Your plan is pain and I wonder
What I’m supposed to gain from
This, closed fists and nail marked

Palms, chapped lips and eerie calm,
Last chances talking the lamb from
Your garden and spilling its blood,
You flood the earth and allow escape

In pairs, but first come first served simply
Isn’t fair when a staircase is the pathway
And I have crippled legs, I swear, I am
The culmination of some else’s disease

But they got their message heard first
And you offered relief at my expense,
My penitence should be sought for sins
Not for complaining you clipped my wings

And dropped me from heaven on my head
Trapped me in iron bars and made a hospital
Out of my bed, white walls splattered
With ailment, you, are not one for

Sentiment it seems and I cannot believe
I wasted words in the sake of your name
While you leave me, drown me and drive
Me insane, they say I’ve got issues bundled

Inside but I was never part of my design
And you built gears which forced lies
To form while I battle the storm of
Your creation, the nation you rule

Assumes you are great and I paint an
Ugly picture behind closed doors, the
More people who see me the less they
Accept your preaching and I’m leeching

Off of rebounded wishes, fishing for
Answers in the pond of your name,
Realising how we are the same and
You are the culmination of a world

Of disease and as the millenniums past
You filled up with greed and drew a
Hasty figure on a sheet and sketched an
Erratic heartbeat and filled the road

With suffering so you would not feel
So alone, and you watch the depths and
Lows I tread, you watch the demons I
Have fed, and the hole in your chest

Grew less and less and now I have
Come to understand, I was made
To sit by your hand and you, you,
are just an ancient and lowly man.


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