We Are Tired.

God is an old man. All he is falling apart at the seams. He keeps forgetting about us. His hands are too battered to lift us. His joints crack and moan. The world that he made in his youth is much the same as he.

The world was a child. Now it's an old man. It had it's time to think, It’s moved away from you, but still response to your wills that it can't feel or see.
 You’ve let it fall, you've picked it back up. You’ve let it flood, and you've let it dry out. You let it burn, you snuffed out the fires. You let it build, you broke apart it's land.

it's aged with the time you bound it too.
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The world is tired and it doesn't want to hear you. You, your moans and failed attempts of justification.

The people that claim to speak your language are just repeating your words, mixing them up so that we see the good side. They speak of what you "meant to say" thousand of years of repeating reasoning and rejoices, judgment, confliction, and leadership.

This world is old but its heart still beats, steadily but faintly.
 Its people live in a way that displeases most and supposedly you.
But it’s alive and well with a slight fever.

You’ve caused all of this. You did this, and yet your voices that you speak through, who hear you… they blame us.

Most of us are too weak to even carry a dead man on our shoulders and yet you blame us for throwing it out of balance merely by our habits and preferences? If we have no power how can we do what you say we did? You made us to fail. You knew this would happen and you did nothing. We know nothing about you. You don't speak, you don't hear, you just wave your frail hands. And breathe your shaky breath into yet another generation.

But who made the blind man see, and the crippled man walk?

Who made the blind man blind and took the crippled man’s legs in the first place?

You call us your children but you beat us down like dogs.

You call us your children but deny you and you send us to burn forever.

You gave us music but gave us plague.

You made light but made us be born blind.

You contradicted yourself.

I understand why people hate you.

And I understand why people love you.

 I mean who wants to think that the weight of the world is on their shoulders?

That there is rest for the weary; that we'll be able to see those we love again as long as we fallow these simple rules and be like this man you gave us many years ago. Small things.

I understand something but I am only a child.
I don’t understand completely and never will.

We are all children

I find it all wrong, sad, and aggravating.

 I’m sick of feeling wrong. I’m sick of finding so many flaws.

We are tired.