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"Life is too short," you sigh into the bottle, as
You scratch tally marks in your skin to measure the days.
Don't get lost in the maze.
But even though your wrists are not
Stainless steel, yet there is steel left in your grey eyes.
So old and wise.
You say life dealt you a bad hand, that
Your cards have always made you want to fold early.
You're too young, surely.
And you're a dragonfly, aren't you?
Because happiness comes a day at a time, then dies.
Only to rise.
I guess I have to admire the amount of thought
It takes, to write an exam for life, and the honesty, to fail.
Though you fought, tooth and nail.
"Life is too long," you whisper, as your finger
Caresses the end of the barrel, and makes its way to the trigger.
The emptiness gets bigger.
The winners are already written in a book,
So why continue to play a game you never asked to play?
You'll lose, anyway.
Some play it like Russian Roulette, yet
Only hate those who turn the gun on themselves instead.
Compassion is dead.
See, there are so many humans and so
Little humanity, but we continue with our masquerade.
It's a fun parade.
In our intelligence we've become blind to
Pride, and are machines in a Matrix without a Neo.
Whom we don't know.
Because we've rejected the only one who
Will rewrite the Book - change the rules - make an exception.
And we have the nerve to make Him
"Anonymous", to praise His writing style but deny Him the credit.
If we've even read it.
We slap "evolution" onto a Bible like
Handcuffs onto a criminal who's lied under sacred oath.
As if we can't have both?
We reject God because He condemns the
Sinner, and protest unjust punishment for finite crimes.
These are evil times.
We make a case for humanity, all the
While throwing in lots with the animals and cast off our souls.
Into the fire, like coals.
We use "natural selection" to justify the
Stigma associated with a girl holding a gun to her head.
Soon she'll be dead.
We blame you for a sadness you never
Asked for, and mistake your cries for help as "loving the spotlight."
You only cried at night.
And yet we ask what's the use of a
God, now that we have science to unveil what is true.
We only love what is new.
But there is no "God of the Gaps", there is
Only a god who crosses the gap between us and salvation.
Slaves to sin require emancipation.
Because we know of mental illness but
We'd still rather sign someone's cast than have patience for the broken.
Pain goes unspoken.
"I hope it's beautiful," you say, as you
Pull the trigger, and I do hope it's beautiful, wherever "there" is.
From our arms to His.
And now, for a second might we not stop
Comparing Bibles to textbooks, and apples to oranges?
And go back to our origins.
Maybe read what you've left us, a letter
Written in red like the words of Jesus, but with your unspilled blood.
That now runs like a flood.
Because as I read the words "I'm sorry",
I finally realize the reality of a world that does not deserve to win.
And has championed sin.
See, we wonder why our case goes unheard
When we've rejected our lawyer - will not Death then judge us harshly?
There is no "partially."
How do we praise ourselves on freedom and
Logic? When Hell is nothing but the absence of God, which we demanded?
To which we'll be handed.
We'll hate Him whether He is here, then, or
Not, and those who love Him, and those whom He loves.
Innocent as doves.
"I'm sorry," I read, and "I'm sorry" I say, and
It's almost like talking to you again, but I can't hear your voice.
And this? This is faith vindicated, and
The sanctity of Hell restored in a world where justice is criminal.
And forgiveness minimal.
Because we are left in charge of this
Earth, yet make living unbearable and dying seem cowardly.
But are brave, only outwardly.
Dragonfly, you only lived a day at a
Time, and the others you wore on your skin as scars.
Dying like stars.
And I'll never forget your smile, but
I'll try to forget the way your hands shook, wrapped around the —
Dragonfly, I hope it's beautiful, where
You are, because I know Neo still saves girls like you.
And someday me, too?