The Indifferent messiah
Poison thorns in shape of fingers, tongue and the thought her brain spews. Thorns well couched in banal colorless scentless flowers. Smiles and laughter she calls it, empty of meaning or intent. Vapid conversations just to keep one from being bored.Simple words with complex meanings, yet messengers of apathy. The holy hymnals of the god who doesnt care about anything except the self serving world she creates. The child with a leggo set, who creates a world that she doesnt understand nor knows enough to care to understand. Play time ends at eight, play till its night.
Kill a soul not by hate, but callous indifference.
The bugs the child crushes without meaning to, but crushes anyways in the name of the game. Crushed not till it dies but crushed that it lies there helpless on its eviscerated torso and asundered legs.
A pain that hurts but not the numbing kind. Pain so great yet not great enough, that it makes one pray for a greater pain. A pain the child wont deliver because of its misguided pity, maybe even selfishness. Or even worse a pain it wont deliver because it doesnt know that it created that prayer for the pain in the first place.
God... when will she grow up?
-thus sprung the ganges through the locks of rudra
