Listen to the cries of those
who thought God loved
them as they burn in the
deepest pits. God hates me
I hate God, God hates them.
There is no fix, no cure, no help nothing
for those poor people. God thinks that
tormenting people is fun it shows he doesn't
care. He gives you more than you can handle
and says good luck and lets you fail.
Why believe in a poser, a lier?
I don't and neither should you, but it's
your choice but as for me I choose
the Dark Lord and Master, Satan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
god is an imaginary friend, why are you considering point fingers at something not there in the first place?