they speak no word of truth, but we dont understand anyway

it was as though one day everything made sense.

once upon a time, we grew up and found ourselves being the responsible ones.  we go to work each day compelled to save the world from god’s cruelty, all the while serving him with lip-speak. we prayed at their bedsides and comforted their loved ones who were left behind.

i can clearly recall the day that my god died.

tonight, i have no problem not believing in god’s existence but am at a loss for how to convey the emptiness that accompanies it.

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