Atheist

It is not any one thing that makes me an atheist.
The sun glistening on the snow capped Himalaya,
the butterfly and the sharp blades of grass,
where it is unusual to lay anymore.
No matter how much I cave in,
no matter how warm,
everything is sad,
everything is flawed.

My need is beyond the shining world.
Somewhere in between the distant incomplete and the war,
our faith has broken off.
Please don't do this to me
and don't say that.
Let's just sit with our feet dangling from the hillside.
I don't believe anymore.
There is a taste of blood in my mouth.
The stories that you told has left it there.
Can we just listen to the waterfall?

In the intervals of our cinematic romance,
I don't feel afraid;
I feel mad.
I feel like building houses sometimes,
and sometimes like drowning in hurting sadness.

No I cannot achieve the impossible,
impossible is still too far.
It is not any one thing that makes me an atheist.
The sun glistening on the snow capped Himalaya,
the butterfly and the sharp blades of grass,
where it is unusual to lay anymore.
No matter how much I cave in,
no matter how warm,
everything is sad,
everything is flawed.