The End

Hey all,

Very different poem here today. Dark and tragic to be sure. I am not even really that moody today, I mean at all. There is a lot of different inspiration in this poem today I think, from the medley of music I listened to, to the conversations I had today at work about the state of America. I don't know. I really like how it turned out.

For me this is a poem meant to be read aloud, the repeating lines enforcing the message. I really went different with the pattern, using kind of book end patterns to the rhyming couplets. I also didn't use the same couplets throughout the poem, which is something else I have never done. Overall I was very happy with the outcome as it was so different from my normal patterns. Read on and let me know what you think.


The End.


The old has come to the end,

As religion cannot defend.

Birthed now are deities of new.

With a whole new faith to accrue.

And churches now are stores,

As our hearts turn into whores.

For there is no God.

For there is no God.

For there is no God.

For there is no God.


It's an entire nation,

in a conflagration,

of desperation,

and aggravation,

to the revelation,


That our God is dead.


We worship our new found faith.

In dollar bills,

Through popping pills.

Or in movie stars,

By driving brand new cars.


The message to the world,

Worship yourself,

Hoard all your wealth.

Cheat on your wife,

And sell out your life.


Now our God is dead.


False idols on the rise,

So ignore your neighbor,

Go fuck a stranger,

Hold no moral ground,

To the pleasures around.


Because our God is dead.


We few are left here crying,

the truth denying,

our faith belying,

as I lay here dying,

and the world relying.


That our God is dead.


As you go to your grave,

You were once so brave,

But now your fading away,

Having wasted all your days.

And on your final night,

You'll see no gates of white.

For there is no God.

For there is no God.

For there is no God.

For there is no God.



End of Line.
Gerrad!