oh ye of little faith

in his younger days there was a belief in god…a naive belief that somthing, or, someone created the world inwhich he lived…a world of a mom and a dad…brothers and a sister…best friends to go down to the swimmin’ pool with on hot summer days in August…afternoon naps…smells comin’ in the windows of lilac and sycamore…petals from dogwood trees blowin’ on the grass that was freshly cut…a dollar for chores well done…

and he thought if he was good than he’d go to heaven when he died…a beautiful place with golden streets and mansions on hills where families lived as one for the rest of their days… singin’ out praises to the lord on high who sat on his thrown takin’ in worship from peasants who praised his very bein’…his goodness…his holiness…

consequently…he also believed that if he was bad then firey pits of Hell awaited him…burnin’ forever with other sinners…whores of Babylon…wicked men who stole and killed in the name of false gods…worshipin’ money…those with a lustful nature towards the same sex…fornicators…men and women who at night screamed out obscenities from the alley where needles lay behind garbage cans…the sins of darkness always bein’ seen in broad daylight…god’s eye in the sky burnin’ brightly…

there was a fear inside of him…although the love of Jesus had saved his soul years ago there was a fear…a fear that he was not good enough to enter the pearly gates…preacher man sayin’ that only a few would be allowed in paradise…all would be judged and many would fail…there was no grace…this was a southern way…

so…he grew older…became a man who no longer believed in a god…or sin…no longer bought the theory of good and bad…the saved and unsaved…heaven or hell…he just thought we existed on this earth until we no longer were allowed to by the breakin’ down of the human body…a gunshot in the middle of the night…one drug too many taken…an old Mustang wrecked out on highway 30…and then you were gone…dust to dust and ashes to ashes…nothin’ left…and that spirit dreamed of when he was a kid…vanished into thin air…

oh ye of little faith…do you not believe…can you hold on to hope just a little longer…can you not see the light…,No…I cannot he said…,and with that he toasted to nothin’…a popped open can of beer toastin’ to nothin’…how southern…

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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