Unfinished...

Jealous yet
we give toward death
blood falling
as your gift.
Attention paid
grace engraved
in your sight
your perfect delight
we bow down
before your crown.

Antisocial
narcissistic
yet altogether
truly deistic.
I've watched you rise
I've watched you fall
it truly doesn't
mean a thing at all.
Your son is dead
and so am i
to your blind
magnificent eyes.
You see this world
beyond the pale
the simple things
meek and frail
escape your plan
and always fail.
They cried for you
oh the fools
and expected to find
their lives sanctified
before their eyes.
Yet small hopes
rarely thrive
beneath your
frozen, tempered
eyes.