(“God, why are you such a buzzkill?”)
A semi-spicy, uncomfortably Satanic devil’s advocate poem, just for some sweaty, fictitious fun
Do you like what it is you have made?
This city of salt and sheen
Summer-set like sun in constant festival
Never waning?
Do you like how we choose to celebrate
Beneath the weight of
sky-eyed watch
Doused in drink
Amidst the sandstone,
Burning
Jubilant in jest
Your justice cast aside to rest–
Just as you once had taught us to?
I call you now from the tower highest
Above our harem city, Sodom,
Praying for the casualties
Your cruelty commands to come–
Who dies first? I ask
Sweeping the first signs of the reckoning
From the floor
We who serve you, Most Voracious? No;
It must be you, our absent Father–
Who delivered the fruits of your labor
Fermented
Burned fingers by enticing fire
Taught your children each and every desire
Until we knew each vice by name
Before condemning piety
To the temptations brought by your reign
Do you remember how you used to celebrate?
With carcass severed, burning black
With chaos crackling in the sky
Smoke spilling with your best-kept secrets
Before they turned to best-kept lies?
Oh, how you loved to watch us suffer
Within the agony of rapture
Twisting in ecstatic tandem
Gems made to grace your diadem
And how we served the best we could
Expressions of your wild youth
You lavished in our sweet submission
Before you had something to prove–
You still love to watch us suffer
Now, in heartless abnegation
Safely dead to death and pleasure
Swindled by the deal for distant treasure
By-lawed instead by looming threat
Of raging wrath with mortal stakes
Abstaining from the lust and love
You had once begged for us to make.