God

My dream is to become a god,

envy to all, just be above

all that try to contemplate me,

to understand me,

me, and my glorious ways

that guide their petty little days.

Yes, I would like to be a god.

Hold your gifts, they don't please me -

just be amazed by me.

Love me more than your wives and husbands,

come to worship me in thousands.

Write legends about me and my existence,

rejoice in me and my presence

and cry so badly in my absence.

For I am god and I am better than you,

more worthy than you.

I am something more so worship me,

write songs about me.

Let me be the spring of your happiness

without ever having to give myself.

Let me have you.

Inspiration

I essayed to call into being a song

I sighed for thoughts which would belong

But words could not be uttered by my tongue

Calling forth a blow to my spirit as I remained headstrong

I inquired into matters of routine

I tasted its fruit but it was saline

Then reached for branches of innovation but they appeared pristine

Turned to the garden of romance but it failed to keep me keen

A whim dubbed me beneath the legs of Adam and Eve

Towards their delusion of the divinity and their grief

I cast a glance at the contemplation on the divine and one's belief

Spared an inch of time for things a bit impossible to conceive

My mind appeared to be delighted by this subject

As far as my tongue was concerned a poetic word was no more a reject

A spring inside me started to flow, started to eject

Verses of the celestial, written out of admiration and respect

The Father and The Silence

I had The Father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My first prayer was the one of thanks

For the most trivial cause - a salvaged vase

My mother told me to kneel with her

We put our hands together and prayed

For the goodness of The Father who laid

His hand on our household that day

I had A Father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My second prayer was the one of request

About a dear bought gift I possessed

It was nothing special, an ordinary present

But it was a dear bought gift for me

It was nowhere to be found and I was just an infant

Setting my mind upon it

I was hearing a sound from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

The first time I heard it was when my little heart was torn

It is a sound of plain silence, loud as a horn

I had a Father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My third and my fourth and my fifth prayers were the ones of varieties

They were prayers of a young man stung by joys and thorns

These years I will remember for the rest of my life

Years of the first mercies and the first strifes

Times when I learned to wish for somebodies instead of somethings

Times when He gave me things - instead of my soul's cravings

I was hearing a Sound from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

The third and the fourth and the fifth time I heard it was the time when my heart was worn

By its plainness silence, loud as a horn

I had a father from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

My last player was the one of swear

That I will make Him an object of my scorn

I wrote a song to Him

And its name was Goodbye

It mentioned a few good times

But it was about endless fights

I was hearing The Sound from the beginning

From the moment my first memory was born

It was a sound of silence, loud as a horn

And I can't bear it no more

Your Image

Show me your love, I really need to learn

How to avoid ways of trying to earn

The present that has been given to me

Please, Father, never stop showing me

How it was our foe that kept shoving me

It was not your love that kept hurting me

Father, I didn't know, someone has lied

As you do understand, you know it well

Among us your shiny image has died

It's absence has orchestrated flames of hell

We desperately need to learn who you are

We manipulated - we went too far

Playing games we thought you were playing too

Breaking all the rules and having no clue

Of our pain, of what we are going through

Scared, running in your probing jar

It makes me angry - I know it's not good

But I honestly do not know what would

I do if I saw liers on the street

Clothed with respect, dignified and neat

My feet would be so quick to make them eat

All their words...their soul's laying on a tilt

Father, forgive me for clearly hating

My heart is always lagging

Behind Yours