Dear god,
Your pain, it burns
Your scorn, it tears
Your hate, it rips
And yet they call it
Your LOVE.
Dear god,
Answer me this
Would a true god slaughter
Children just to make a point?
I've seen your 'love', and it's just
HATE dressed up in the brightest blues,
The boldest reds, the finest greens, the sunniest yellows.
I'm not fooled, I see your heart, a dark BLACK!
Dear god,
This is my address to you, old friend.
No longer do we need you, this is the end.
There is true knowledge, a flame of light
Burning with reason and logic, a fire bright!
We call it science, but you can call it your deathbed.
Your rule by fear reign will soon be overcome.
A rule of peace and love will be what we won.
Dear god,
I hope you are ready.
Be not proud, god, for today,
Thou shalt die!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes! Let's burn all the false gods and turn within, where truth is found