TO THOSE WHO QUESTION
A poem on Faith inspired by God, an Underoath song and the book "The Idiot" by Dostoevsky.
To Those Who Question
imagine yearning for black and white
and a lack of fulfillment,
a snowy trip along the cliffs of suburbia,
where red carpets has been replaced
by sheets of ice.
a keen listener to a mute teacher.
color blinded.
sound streaming from a crack in the ceiling.
i apologize for that.
when word for word,
a lie could have saved
a hole from being made, and
a bullet from being wasted.
it's His innocence,
it's their Greed,
a common sign in the
most insensitive of creatures.
a cloth soaked with blood,
and hands covered with charcoal,
trapped in the gold mines
of the book,
of the Righteous heart,
and unselfish mind.
when the world decided
not to argue with the Jury,
the Criminals pleaded guilty,
and took themselves to the Garden.
He wanted to capture the innermost self, the pure, the Child...
yet we turn our backs on Him,
afraid to plead guilty,
would rather resort to
the Flowers in the Garden.
-Rae '05. 8:29 PM. 011205. Wed.