Death of the Almighty

Bouncing against the backdrop
of a fledgling faith
your glory danced
on the wilting wick.
I raised my eyes to you
as you sat on your waxen Mt. Sinai,
casting shadows to show
where I should walk.
Each gospel, each verse
dripped into the basin of my mind,
molding my beliefs
within the glass confines of Christian doctrine.
The match of Intellect flared
sparking the tinder of Ideas.
I watched you slowly descend
as Knowledge wore away
at the pedestal of my love.
In those last hours of guttering light,
I threw out my hand
grasping at your remaining strength.
My fingers withdrew from the heat
of your last angry sputter,
a father�s unconvincing judgment,
as I snuffed out your flame
with the blanket of my incredulity.
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