Maybe, the Rain Will Wash Our Sins Away..

With ashy insides
and shaky hands,
I write an abyss of words
no one will understand.

Starbucks, starbucks!
and we all fall down.
Faster, let's crash!
Full speed to the ground.

Oh, invisible Jesus,
where have you gone?
Jesus is my shadow
as I my insides lay on the lawn.

I've regurgitated them
along with my pride
Because the alcohol was calling,
"Take the ride.."

My will is as fragile as faith
and my bones are brittle, too.
How long has it been
since the taste in my mouth was of you?

Explosions! Explosions!
Where is your Christianity now?
I would have stopped this broken war
had I known how.

Force me on my knees
to bow before his form-
Your tattered dictator
Of which hate was born.

Oh, he'll save you, won't he?
He'll save you from yourself
and, when he says it is time,
you will be placed on the shelf.

Now, I know where he is.
He is in the chicken crowd
rushing with his head sliced off
under the gray clouds.

Maybe, the rain will clean our sins.
Maybe, the rain will wash our sins away..