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Biography is either masked ball or epitaph. As you find me, so we are.

Friday, 25 May 2012

There's something I need to get off my chest

If you had powers for a day,
To make the Universe the way
You’d really like the place to be,
Would you design it just like He?
With mortal pain and child death,
Or force the Good to see the breath
Slow-taken from a dying friend,
Who really suffered at The End?
The words you pray show you are kind –
Not that there is some Greater Mind;
A psycho god whom we must flatter –
With whispered pleas to rank our Matter.
Yes, Mr Leibniz, you were smart –
But here I must correct your Art;
All’s as it is as it must be –
But not because Almighty He
Designed it thus – He’s made by Us.
I’m sorry if I make a fuss –
But there’s more Love within your look
Than you’ll find in a Holy Book.

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