V. The Silence
War with God
Grief is an endless roar,
ripping through flesh,
crushing even the mightiest beast,
grinding bone to dust,
turning strength to sand—
a supernova birthing and ravaging the land.
Grief is an endless roar,
ripping through flesh,
crushing even the mightiest beast,
grinding bone to dust,
turning strength to sand—
a supernova birthing and ravaging the land.
Grief is an endless roar,
ripping through flesh,
crushing even the mightiest beast,
grinding bone to dust,
turning strength to sand—
a supernova birthing and ravaging the land.
I wage war against God.
No hymns—only shattered prayers I cry.
Where was His mercy
as my world collapsed and died?
I wage war against God.
No hymns—only shattered prayers I cry.
Where was His mercy
as my world collapsed and died?
I wage war against God.
No hymns—only shattered prayers I cry.
Where was His mercy
as my world collapsed and died?
Once, a devout disciple,
I knelt in blind faith.
His grand design—skies ablaze,
stars rained down in a glittering array.
But I alone, unshackled, saw
beauty’s mask crack, revealing ruin below.
Where they fell, the earth ignited,
and orchards bloomed in fire through the night.
Once, a devout disciple,
I knelt in blind faith.
His grand design—skies ablaze,
stars rained down in a glittering array.
But I alone, unshackled, saw
beauty’s mask crack, revealing ruin below.
Where they fell, the earth ignited,
and orchards bloomed in fire through the night.
Once, a devout disciple,
I knelt in blind faith.
His grand design—skies ablaze,
stars rained down in a glittering array.
But I alone, unshackled, saw
beauty’s mask crack, revealing ruin below.
Where they fell, the earth ignited,
and orchards bloomed in fire through the night.
Here I stand
on the ashes of a promised land,
watching my people
wander a labyrinth unraveling,
desperate to know
why God delivered this reckoning.
Here I stand
on the ashes of a promised land,
watching my people
wander a labyrinth unraveling,
desperate to know
why God delivered this reckoning.
Here I stand
on the ashes of a promised land,
watching my people
wander a labyrinth unraveling,
desperate to know
why God delivered this reckoning.
Will He ever seek my forgiveness?
Or is His ego too vast to bear regret—
His creation evolving beyond His imagination?
Free will—His gift, was it not?
Then I am free to question,
to challenge His throne.
Will He ever seek my forgiveness?
Or is His ego too vast to bear regret—
His creation evolving beyond His imagination?
Free will—His gift, was it not?
Then I am free to question,
to challenge His throne.
Will He ever seek my forgiveness?
Or is His ego too vast to bear regret—
His creation evolving beyond His imagination?
Free will—His gift, was it not?
Then I am free to question,
to challenge His throne.
I seek no answers now.
Grief’s black tide drowns reason itself,
consuming all hope,
leaving only this pain
to remind me I exist.
I seek no answers now.
Grief’s black tide drowns reason itself,
consuming all hope,
leaving only this pain
to remind me I exist.
I seek no answers now.
Grief’s black tide drowns reason itself,
consuming all hope,
leaving only this pain
to remind me I exist.
No longer a lamb led to slaughter,
but a lion who dares to roar at God.
No longer a lamb led to slaughter,
but a lion who dares to roar at God.
No longer a lamb led to slaughter,
but a lion who dares to roar at God.