Throwing Stones

I have looked far and wide

for the one they all proclaim

turned every stone and sailed every tide

yet I find no name

no trace, no signal

no semblance of a vigil

except a couple thousand books

differing accounts

of the different gods

and how they came about

And I say as I look to the stars

where are they?

Some would say they lay in the heavens, far far away

when I ask exactly where they shrink back, delay

I don't see them, maybe I'm blind

or maybe I see with my mind and not with my heart

for a fool blinded by struggles of the heart, and of loss

May not see past the cover of the wooden cross

For 'tis a symbol of nothing more than it presents

torture

Disguised in the form of a messiah and a martyr

No time I have to dig into the others nor interest

for now at least I'll leave you with a wish list

of all the things that invalidate any god's existence

The burden of proof lies with the claimant

extraordinary claims sans evidence can be flagrantly

tossed to the side and mocked for their iniquity

when any religion comes up with a book

shoves it in the face of millions, it hooks

then a new one comes along and repeats the process

A cycle that can be stopped with a firm press

of the mind, in a search for evidence

because we are throwing stones at the gods

and the image is flickering

come together, stop the bickering

because we are the humans, hopefully united

someday bound enough to see where the real light is

advancement for the future, to the sun, to the stars

Find the minds to work, let us all rejoice

In the name of freedom, and the illusion of choice