Forgive me Father, for I'm about to sin:

(It's been about 40 days since Her last breath)

I've been dying to tell you that

The tone of your self-righteous inflection

Isn't caring, but careful—

A reflection His hypocrisy.

Your voice peals louder than church bells,



The structure where her music had blossomed forth,

Once awakening life and love.

Her organ is silenced,

No longer keeping the beat.

Forever, familiar hymns are replaced by foreign dirges.

Repressing urges to curse everything,

My feelings are surged towards depression,

Delivered from our very Father.