God is Dead. Good.

Dead: A Poem by Kester Brewin

Today, there is no hope.
There is no resurrection,
no looking forward to a Sunday
which does not yet exist in even
the wildest imaginations.
There is no prayer
no solace
no point.

God has died.
It’s over.
Finished.
Give up.
Go home.
Return to work.

The best you can do
is carry on the memory;
the only remainder of belief,
now all has been strung up
and screwed up,
is to consider that may be
his life was well lived,
and that helping the poor
and standing up for the oppressed
was worth living
and dying for.

God has died.
We live still
this Friday
to do Good.

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