13 – The Creator

 A cold beer and a cigarette
Wired to the machine
Writing a requiem
And purging old dreams
These days have been counted
Each breath on the clock
Giving heart to the world
Before that heart stops

Just a voice in the dark
Drowning in noise
Reflecting a life
A life that destroys
The promise it made
At the point of creation
Another mistake
A sharp deviation

From the word to the act
An elaborate myth
That robs you of hope
Then asks you forgive
Their ways of deceit
Their treacherous tongues
As they kill all you love
Then hand you the gun

Vengeance they say
The cold hand of death
Be righteous with fury
It’s all you have left
But you lay down the weapon
And pick up the pen
For each thought recorded
Will live past your end