The man sat down on his knees,
Broken, battered, and angry.
In self pity he looked up slowly.
His bloodshot eyes turned to the heavens,
As a single tear crossed his cheek.
“What have you done to me god?
And why did I deserve it?”
Patronizing, he looked up;
The Victim.
The sky was pried open,
And He let it pour.
“Why? …. Why? Why?!”
The victim stuttered then yelled.
“I have created you.”
God said down to him.
“I have given you sight.”
“To see horrors!”
“I have given you hearing.”
“To hear screams!”
“I have given you taste.”
“To taste the blood of those I loved!”
“I have given you smell.”
“To smell the eternal stench of injustice!”
“I have given you feeling.”
“To feel the countless pains of existence.”
“NO.”
God yelled down from heaven .
“I have created you, given you your senses,
I have done nothing more.
It is you that has wrought this upon yourself.
You are NOT the victim.
And I am NOT the criminal.
It is you who has done this, all of it
You saw horrors
You heard screams
You tasted blood
You smelled injustice
You felt pain.
You made it rain.”
A rain drop hit his eye,
And for a moment he cringed.
His eyes tightened, squeezing out everything,
Angry at the clean water that had struck his eye.
He brought his wet hand up to help,
And he pounded against the socket;
As he cried tears of anguish,
Indistinguishable in the world of falling water.
And it consumed him, this drop of realness.
And he said to himself, and no one else:
“Damn rain.”
So he opened his eyes.
He was alone, the rain was gone.
His cheeks were dry.
And he wondered if god had ever been there,
Or if he had imagined it.
And he wondered if that should make any difference in how he proceeded
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