The world
Is simply a clutter
Of different religions,
Different faiths,
Different beliefs.
But how could anyone know
That their beliefs are correct?
How do they know
That what the preacher up in the front
Of where you are sitting
In mass
Is saying something
That you should believe in?
Or is he reading
From the book of lies,
The Holy Bible?
Is the Holy Bible
All true?
Or is it a bundle of lies
All bound together with a leather cover?
People can have perfect faith
In Heaven,
And then die,
And find a new life
Waiting for them,
In another body.
They could think
That Heaven is a myth,
And then die,
And find a golden gate
Swinging slowly open,
With God offering
Open arms to them.
They could think that
Death is the beginning of
A new life,
And then die,
And find Death just a vast emptiness
Of nothingness.
And as they spiral through
The black,
They wonder why
They ever thought
That death was a beginning.
So why have faith?
Why have belief?
You can never know
What happens
After the icy hands of Death
Slowly wrap around your neck...
And tighten their hold.
It would simply be embarrassing
If you firmly believed
In something,
And then were proven
Wrong, completely wrong.
So why bother?
I'll tell you why;
If you have nothing
To believe in,
Nothing to have faith in,
And you're never sure of yourself,
For you need to see to believe,
Your life is nothing.
As blank and as empty
As one theory of death.
You have nothing to live for,
So you might as well
Just die.
Fish
The fish of the ocean
Look up to the heavenly boat
That floats overhead
The scale-less god
Throw the lines of death
Into the churning Pacific.
The silver tooth
Stealthfully chooses a fish,
And chooses its destiny.
If the fish
Makes the water
Froth with blood,
Watching the thin ribbons of red
Twist and turn
While savagely tearing flesh
With vicious teeth,
Killing creatures who do not
Want to die,
Who do not
Deserve to die
And who are not
Meant to die,
They are cast
To a colorless and
Lifeless reef,
Where they cannot breath,
For the water is nowhere.
And tiny white and gray bubbles
That make the fish wheeze
Billow out of tall tubes.
Then they are to be fried
In the mist of giant flames,
Similar to the ones that appears
When volcanoes in the abyss
Erupt.
The flames burning like red reef.
And the deserving fish,
Would be gutted,
And have no more courage and daring
Left in them.
Then they themselves
Would be torn away by teeth
And they would have to endure
All of the pain
That they had given.
But for those fish
Who live peacefully
Among others,
Going about their business
In the reefs
Would be rewarded
By the gods,
And their silver teeth.
They would be
Put into a place
Where there were
Invisible reefs
Separating them
And the large-toothed monsters.
Where young gods
Would pass by,
Pressing their fins
Against the invisible reef,
Then turn away,
And keep swimming,
Trailing behind
Larger gods,
Touching fins.
Clownfish would
Grin foolishly at these gods,
But the piranhas,
Who are always defensive,
Would bare their teeth.
And the fish,
No matter the species,
Or the size,
Get what they deserve
In the end.
