Babble
They say god is everywhere, even in us ... but do they actually believe it ?.

God is not questioned for any action of his,
Should we, for just our thoughts ?.
His beliefs, his actions enigmatic and mysterious, his mills slow and laborious,
Why not the same patience, for ours ?.
Is it that you only imagine God,
Not believe in him, as in me and you
That you deny his presence ... as is your wont ?.

Terror: What you want

What you want from me,
Is in essence what I am,
What you want of me,
Is change everything, be a sham.

Your hands are stained in blood,
More blood can't cleanse them,
Your pain, can't be by more grevious one's to others
Inflicted be lessened.

That mindless carnage, is for a better future,
I cannot accept ever,
The injuries to your soul,
Its suffering, I cringe; cower.

You say you believe in god,
Has god not made me, even you ?
Follow him how I want, are you better then god to tell me how ?
All I say in summation is this,
"God is my revenge", I need not stoop further, no.

Question
I am constantly confounded by this puzzle,
But, it must seem so clear to someones eyes,

I try and try, but some how the colors and shapes,
Have no pattern, pieces together never seem to match,

Easy answers are past, and without answers,
It is only a repitition of mistakes of the past.

Guess, it is time for me to shout, what is the question I need to ask ?.

The perfect picture
The perfect picture in my mind,
Seems to be composed of so many irregular, incongruous shapes,

The rock there, will roll off, plumb the depths of rivers, become lost, as a pebble somewhere.
The warming sun in the sky, will climb the skies and scorch the picture black.

The green grass will grow wilder, hide cracks and venomous snakes.
The river will break its flow, leaving a dry dying river bed behind.

Nature will turn feral, killing the lambs and sheep,
With hiding Tigers, Lions and Wolves: they will catch up, keep pace.

... So much for the perfect picture, should I expect to be fooled by it?