The Great Joke

Deep in the darkest pits, the starving are vanishing. You toss them a crumb, then stand back and watch them rot.

You, all-powerful and unseen, beam your eternal cruelty over this grand, twisted scheme.

You let the young die, and those who still dare to taste life’s fleeting joys, But you won’t let the ones begging for an end just slip away.

Countless who now rot in the earth, once swore blind allegiance to you, died happily convinced they'd found salvation.

You keep the poor shackled, year after year, their desires more tempting than your so-called paradise. Too bad they never saw the light, but they died smiling, rotting all the same.

Many of us mock you, say you don’t exist and maybe that’s the best thing to believe. But then again, how could something not be, if it can play such a sickening trick?

If everything lives through you and can’t even perish without your say-so—tell me, what difference does it make if you don't exist at all?