This poem was inspired by Janis Joplin's song 'Mercedes Benz', a tongue-in-cheek take on American consumerism. Instead of consumerism, my offering is a plea to god from an atheist consumed by chronic pain - in fact it's a distraction from the pain.
Lord won't you give me a day in the sun,
My life's so wretched and I deserve fun;
A little time off to breathe without pain,
And, then I'll take up my burden again.
Lord can I make this simple request,
That I can live my life, like all the rest;
Being able to sleep when I hit the sack,
Not writhing in pain from my lower back.
Lord a night free from pain's all that I ask,
For you a mere nothing, a simple task
One wave of your hand and it'll be done,
"'Abracadabra' pain there shall be none!"
Lord, I'd sell you my soul for some respite,
Except I already sold it the other night,
To a devilish man where all roads meet,
He promised me health, my body complete.
Lord, I'm still in pain, and my soul is spent,
I trust that explains this pathetic lament;
An atheist in pain may hedge his bets,
Falter, but in the end still has no regrets.
Thus, Lord please forgive this intrusion,
My weakness has led me into delusion;
In beseeching you for your heavenly aid,
From the path of disbelief I have strayed.
Poetry by Seøn
Read 314 times
Written on 2011-10-09 at 21:25
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The Atheist's Lament
The Atheist's LamentLord won't you give me a day in the sun,
My life's so wretched and I deserve fun;
A little time off to breathe without pain,
And, then I'll take up my burden again.
Lord can I make this simple request,
That I can live my life, like all the rest;
Being able to sleep when I hit the sack,
Not writhing in pain from my lower back.
Lord a night free from pain's all that I ask,
For you a mere nothing, a simple task
One wave of your hand and it'll be done,
"'Abracadabra' pain there shall be none!"
Lord, I'd sell you my soul for some respite,
Except I already sold it the other night,
To a devilish man where all roads meet,
He promised me health, my body complete.
Lord, I'm still in pain, and my soul is spent,
I trust that explains this pathetic lament;
An atheist in pain may hedge his bets,
Falter, but in the end still has no regrets.
Thus, Lord please forgive this intrusion,
My weakness has led me into delusion;
In beseeching you for your heavenly aid,
From the path of disbelief I have strayed.
Poetry by Seøn
Read 314 times
Written on 2011-10-09 at 21:25
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
