Dona Nobis Mortem
Today, I shed a tear mourning the loss of my faith.
God killed it.
He offered not to dry my tear, either.
Perhaps, God and I will again talk one day
(On better terms)
Though I look not forward to the Afterdeath,
The choice, to utlast time itself,
Would make me like the centurion cursed
Utterly Doomed!
To walk the earth until Christ's return.
Were we still friends, I could ask God a favour
But no
Asking favours is why I am where I am. But no.
He would not listen anyway
Dona Nobis Mortem (Sil Vous Plait.)
Still, the devil's no better.
