June 11, 2009
By Alexander Noyes SILVER, Atkinson, New Hampshire
Alexander Noyes SILVER, Atkinson, New Hampshire
9 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Fate drips from your swollen finger tips
Falling on the faithless cement floor
Losing itself in a cold, dark puddle below
Breathing in sync with every other drop

Your face is beautiful in its anguish
Hope has abandoned every feature
Leaving it pale and vulnerable
Empty and hollow as a jail cell

You no longer bother with tears
Your eyes do not look onto your soul
They are windows to nothing at all
Just vestiges of happier days

No matter how close I am to you
You still feel thousands of miles away
Lost in a desert of ice, wandering
Aimless, and void of all reason

I feel your skin, but its not you
It might as well be the wall I touch
Dry and without any feeling
You are buried deep underneath

God has abandoned you here
Turned towards other creations
Whispering into prophets ear's
Judging the world with impartiality

His Gavel is the thunder in the heavens
Banging its decision for all to hear
Warning of the trouble we all face
Weighing on the hearts of all it affects

An angel's wings droop with guilt
Doubting its creator like the lost ones
It falls towards the darkess of the Earth
Head hung as low as the humans

God sits on his Throne and rests his head
Not bothering since the six days passed
His orphaned children pray in vain
He yawns a cruel yawn and falls asleep

The author's comments:
I was inspired to write this poem after I finished reading Night by Elie Weisel. His faith was put to the ultimate test, and by the end of his experiences his faith was only carried on by habit. He was angry with God for punishing him, and all of the Jews in the Holocaust.

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