God works in mysterious ways,
Or not at all.
I feast on apples all day,
Only to trigger a fall.
Condemned homeless veins take needles to stave,
I, amongst these souls profane
weighed less than what God might save.

Did our savior turn his eyes from us
As Satan spewed miasmal wretchedness?
Rancidity overwhelmed the Heavens
And scorn fell like rain
drowning streets, ***** houses and churches,
and from these oozed the truth of our existence.
Birthed in this putrid slime
we crawled, and struggled, and ached,
and cried, and prayed to whatever god might listen-

Of course,
none ever did.

So we waited,

And waited,

And waited,

For nothing.