God: A poem 

Is God a eunuch decorating a corrupt queen? 

The rood of a tyrant inflicting wounds on a has-been 

Is he a deluge for innocents and an ark for the elite? 

When dusk is daylight, is his justice chaff or wheat? 

In the computer’s memory, there is every byte of crime 

Every unsuspecting river, the ocean of untruths finds 

Ask God if he ever dared to have any citrus in his limes 

Why the world is full of malicious reasons, but never any rhymes? 

If God is an eternal moment without any change in time, 

how come the world is in constant flux between soot and grime? 

Justice appears to be an empty fruit with just a covering rind 

And there is all this divisive religion that claims to know God’s mind 

Is the answer in shadows of reality hidden from the illusions of life? 

Does the virtual end when the soul takes the fated final dive? 

Do we discover the paradise of his hands when the truths arrive? 

That he only feigned to be a hopeless eunuch when you were alive