I have never asked for much.
Just to live the way You made me.
I have lived by my terms alone.
Those were conducted honestly.
No great ambition, no low vice,
Yet I’ve suffered loss, greatly so;
But I have shown no cowardice
And this is something You do know.
You put one hubris in my heart:
This need that burns within my core.
You caressed it thrice with your pawns
Ultimately, I was Your whore.
You threw down love, like ‘twas my fee,
For all that I have given You.
Maybe my mistake was calling you Father
After lying before you naked and true.
I love You. But don’t treat me thus!
It’s unfair to make me desire.
On giving, you make me Your whore
But know that makes You my buyer.
If You need revenge of some sort,
You are exacting it quite well,
And in the pain of my loved ones
You are creating my hell.
People talk of life after death;
But, oh, I know the truth so well,
Each smile You let is my heaven,
Each tear You force is my hell.