I read them to understand them.
One I know is a goodhearted man
Who chose sin.
The other is a badhearted man
Who also chose sin.
Both were prophets…
Infused with God’s wisdom
Like Nietzsche.
How they interpreted a meaningless world…
A world of blood.
I read it, seeing how he could get lost in the particulars.
The other I see understands the need for freedom.
One went headlong into war.
The other sat in his house
Meditating on the fruitless endeavors of a revolution.
I read them to understand them.
So one cannot say to me, “You do not understand,
“Oh man,
“What the other side is saying.”
It’s not much different than the online troll
Who is telling me I’m pretentious.
Saying that my objection to Homosexuality is a sin.
Morality to him is smoking weed,
Sodomites,
Ripping apart fetuses,
Assisting people with suicide,
And a man cross dressing.
I see no difference between the high minded intellectual
And the lowbrow troll who doesn’t use grammar.
They say, “Prove your God exists.”
Is not their jadedness testament enough?
It’s proof enough for me.
That men like that exist is enough for me to cling to my Bible.
Men who would spoil the very existence of good.
Why is it so persuasive?
It’s a tantalizing little idea
That holds no water when faced with the mounting stack of evidence
That good and evil exist.
If men were without a God
I suppose there’d be no harm in men believing in good and evil.
Get to the bottom of the barrel
Men would war over their definitions.
Though, I’m satisfied that there is a God
Because something in me
Testifies to a moral absolute.
I never questioned it,
Only questioned my role in this moral play.
My argument is simple.
Morals prove God.
Where men went wrong is that God cut off their conscience
So they could no longer understand this.
They go about,
Killing children,
Smoking Weed,
Sodomizing.
And at some point enough men do it
With impunity
And gross amounts of bodies pile up in mass graves
Because one of them had sense enough to become a dictator.
If suffering weren’t proof of evil
And kindness proof of good
Then I suppose we shall all bow under the Tyrant
And none could depose him
For all would sing their merry little songs of the fool
Cackling while they starve.
B. K. Neifert 