Beg for forgiveness where there's none to be found

He says: do not ask me for mercy, I am no god

yet he certainly bleeds like one

Red and red and red
all over his bruised knuckles;
the price of freedom
the riot in patriot.

Cracked mirrors on a Sunday
cracked bones on a Monday
will Tuesday be cracked teeth
or is that his off-day?
Do gods take off-days?

He's on his knees, now,  
offering up squinted-eye smiles
I am no god
He promises, parting the sea of peace, anyway

Perhaps gods never set out to be divine
perhaps they do not know who they even are
since peace and war mean nothing to them

It's the human condition, to hurt.
He hurts all the time, you can see it in his shoulders
in the way he bleeds

Red and red and red
just like a god.