Is this all a dream?
Or is it all real?
Is life a faux?
Perhaps we were created for fun
Who knows

Are we placed on this board game
To do nothing
But be shot down
By the aspects of life?

Were we made by this great God for a purpose?

Perhaps we are circus animals
For a crowd that is obscured
As we shed tears
As we laugh
As we sing
As we dance
Is there someone else
Besides these great Gods up above?

This game master makes the selection
Of who is to die aged
Who is to suffer
The rages of our Earth
Or who is to suffer
Because of human desires

Does this game master decide all of this?
Does he laugh with the devil
As we pray for answers?

Perhaps this game master influences
Who is to stay
Shrouded in darkness
Or who is to become demented

Are all our emotions
Just a part of the show?
Are we the main acts?

No science or religion
Can prove what theories are facts
Papers of legends
Have swirled
The sands of time
Yet, it is our choice to believe
Which legends are true

Some have chosen
To love the man who was crucified
Some have chosen
To look at his father instead
While others have chosen
To stay maverick
And not worship
A supreme power

Does the game master who created us
Laugh as we change on our own?
Perhaps he laughs
As we make this game
More of a test
Or as we choose to evolve
In rather unorthodox ways

Or does he pity us?
He may shake his head
With a tsk tsk
As we change our laws of society
And let ourselves devolve
All because of greed

Who knows, he may even frown
In disapproval
As he watches us
Let our world crumble
And slip through our fingers

What do I know, it might be a she!

No one may know
About this peculiar game master

Are we major roles
In a bizarre experiment?
Are any of us truly awake?

Even I do not know
At thirteen years of age
No one may know
If they were a hundred

This poem is not propaganda
Against the Father
Son, and Holy Spirit,
Or against
The great Buddha

I am still youthful
And my mind still wonders
If this is all real
Or just an infinite
Distorted
Prejudiced
Game