The God Complex
We are the war after the end.
The feet slept on, still cold
After a day out in the field.
Resting, allowing sores to mend.
We see the traffic light turn red.
A busy day, a rainy time.
Cars hurry along. Determination
To be on time, not late instead.
Farther up time's divine tree,
A crow-someone must be dead.
Is it you? Your life is complete;
We watched you at your deathbed.
Everything we are, everyone we are not.
It gets lonely knowing, always knowing.
Are we God? Must be, so high up.
So lonely, we live until time starts to rot.
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