other’s love Him.
Me, I pity Him.
If He made me at all in His image,
He’s a lonely guy, racked with regret and a longing to be different.
All alone with no one to relate to,
isolated beyond knowledge, across the epistemic distance.
Desperately seeking appreciation
from a world that has turned its back on Him.
And as much as He may have loved us,
I think He’s grown to weep for us;
His imperfect creation.
Just as when I look at you,
He’s reminded of the biggest mistake
He’s ever made.