God is neither an 'it', nor a 'who'
At odds with religions and people too.
Is, was and will always be – they say
Kneeling, prostrating, devoted, they pray.

God isn’t a deity, an idol or divine
Nor dwells in temples or craves for a shrine
Oft summoned over rebuttals, belike;
By mono, poly and atheism alike.

God is the perpetual rain that can fall
Over the cold and unkind hearts of us all.
Soaking them in hope and flooding them with light,
Kindling the love and rinsing the spite.

God is the credo people should be told,
To be gentle with young, polite with old,
Kind to parents, loving to wife,
To be loyal to friends and call it a life.

Mortal is a universal axiom, hitherto.
God is a paradox, just waiting to be true.

There is this girl that I love so much -
Sculpted by the angels on their hallow day.
Whenever she didn’t croon, she would just sway;
She was a wonder in herself, as such.

She walked up to me, I was very anxious.
My heart pounded, like it would
Break and dash out of my chest if it could.
Thoughts were vague, random and various.

Every inch she closed in, seemed like a mile;
Spellbound, I looked at this lady; She
Stared off into space, her first time, maybe.
Couldn’t jump the gun, but it had been a while.

Before I said anything, she stood on her toes,
Laid on my fool heart’s grave, a pink rose.
Kissed on my cheek, whispered goodbye -
Nonchalantly caressed my love to die.