I saw God bent over the toilet
His eyes bloodshot
His face pale
His knuckles white, exuding His tale
Of the world that has taken advantage
The society that thrives for itself
The children and how they're being taught to live
Have all stripped this savior of His very health
Strike one we see the values.
Or the lack thereof.
He thrashes and spews,
His eyes reflecting you,
While He asks himself where we lost all the love.
We pray for the money.
We pray for success.
We pray for whatever will let us work less.
We scream for attention.
And strive for acceptance.
Whilst our very existence and morality is threatened.
Strike two? The broken families.
The drinking, abusing, divorcing.
Clutching the rim,
We look to Him,
Pondering why this wasn't foreseen.
Yet minute by minute,
Tick by tock,
Each grueling moment of the sickness's wrath
Leaves less and less time on the Man's thinning clock
"I used to try,
I used to love,
I used to teach for the cause.
But in breathing for your life,
I overlooked all the flaws.
To dream of a world of peace.
Where kindness overruled all else.
When you put yourself last, and did what was right
Without any signs or rules or tells
And blinded by hope
And surges of desire
Now all that's left of me
Balances tediously on a wire."
I saw God bent over the toilet,
His nails dirty,
His mouth dry,
His demeanor trash, but it's no wonder why.
Strike three, we see our reflection
From a perspective far, far away.
He vomits our sin,
Unable any longer to hold it in..
And suddenly we can't find a word to say.
For the God that had sacrificed it all for us,
Who'd been pinned upon the infamous cross,
Here we have him backed down and beaten up,
And it's solely because we've betrayed his trust.