How can you call yourself a god,
Don't even bother to interfere,
Created in your image,
What kind of creep does that make you anyway.
There is no hell,
We are allready here,
And why do I fear death,
If i'm allready dead.
Why should I be able to hate,
Why all this envy,
Should I be able to kill for this land,
Is this what you are?
And what is evil?
If this is the light,
Then what is darkness?
Just a brick in a game
Answer me.
What do you want from me?
____________________________________________
by Dickinson
