Originally Written - December 30, 2017
A Letter to the Reverend and Ozymandias
If but 100 bear witness to the pilot’s jetstream as it cleaves the sky, is his effect then greater than mine? Entire being consumed by cause so grand; but life’s exertion advances small.
As moral arc bends -- snapped my back in twain; eyes no virgin to futures interrupted. From painted earth, the nobility of martyrs feigned.
On my hands and knees I weep and beg. In atheistic search for resolve and providence, I write: “Dearest, King and King of Kings - when I look upon, I do despair. Here stands I, prince of nothing.
In your immortality fleeting; I cry you provide me answer With but one life allotted; To what purpose serves my sorrow?”