Godhead

Godhead

A Poem by Sianna Reader
"

My thoughts on religion...

"

Upon the earth, some years ago,

When all was wrong and so unfair,

There grew a tale of violent woe,

That stripped a man of glory bare.

 

Though I’m not a heavenly child,

In faith, I cannot turn to God,

I cry for He who died that day

upon the cross of dirt and clod.

 

Jesus Christ, he was but known,

and miracles were all his worth,

and to inherit God’s great throne

was but his function on this earth.

 

He healed the sick, he helped the poor,

He gave great hope to all mankind, 

He knew in life what love was for,

And shaped it all refined.

 

I do not think he was a God,

In fact he was all common blood,

And I find it hard and kind of odd,

That he should waste in shame and mud.

 

Oh a God on earth, he wasn’t so,

but one of us, so strong and wise,

And if you look beneath his scripts,

You’ll surely come to realise "

 

That in us, saviours one and all,

You just have to look beyond the night,

And though we’ve sunk in Eden’s fall,

We can rise above in endless light.

 

We don’t need God to show us how,
For in us God is there and true,

And I a sinful child of now,

Is blind to God who died for you.

 

That doesn’t mean I don’t believe,

I simply know not where’s he gone,

And I can’t find him ‘neath the words

Of Mathew, Mark and Luke and John.

 

Instead I see him in the trees,

And also in the pleasant rain,

And sometimes when I write like this,

I feel him close and share his pain.

 

I think of God as several souls,

As Allah and his many names,

As Buddha in his Godless form,

Yes Godhead who but takes and claims.

 

 So those of heart can cry and weep,

And I shall join them in their loss,

For I’m apart of those who nailed

a poor good man upon a cross.

 

I don’t just mourn today for Him,

But to those with faith all riddled sick,

For if you’re too consumed with prayers,

then your faith like mud is dark and thick.

 

Instead consider other things,

like helping those who need it so,

For others are still suffering,

And you and God all know it so.

 

Christ wouldn’t want us all to cry,

He’d ask instead for us to share,

To help our neighbours far and wide,

To give a little, dare to care.

 

So if you loathe what I have said,

Then please ignore and turn away,

Don’t comment here, don’t snap and snarl,

You’ll forget this poem in a day,

 

And if you in me feel great offence,

That’s fine but please don’t hold a grudge,

For if everything I’ve said is wrong,

Don’t worry friend, God is my judge.


© 2012 Sianna Reader



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Added on April 13, 2012
Last Updated on April 13, 2012

Author

Sianna Reader
Sianna Reader

South Wales, United Kingdom



About
Hi! I'm 18 years old and have been writing for as long as I can remember. I love to read fantasy books especially The Twilight Saga and The Harry Potter series. (Reader by name, Reader by nature as my.. more..

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