After on repeat four times in a row this is well really god.
Not season seven of supernatural but its really god.
We are loved for a brief moment and then we are mere game of croquet,
Piece by piece being knocked in the twisted fucked up game.
And for once i can understand what they meant by the dark messiah,
The hand of god,
The vengeful one.
Perhaps god isnt real the way its described in thousand year old books and its pretty fucked up when your seven years old having dreams of the apocalypse.
Its pretty fucked up when your fathers the one who told you how it ends and then you play it out over and over because its all your mind can imagine.
We are gods twisted game of life.
A sick, sadistic joke.
YOU ARE READING
Referenced
Poesía"You walk in everyday with the same mistake. Your alive. You walk in and out, still no change." -i am a working stiff
