Lonely God

The lonely god,

At the end of the block,

At the top of the hill

I see him,

His eyes of sorrow,

His fingers of fear

Hiding beneath sheets,

Hoping he can’t find me

As he roams my halls

Silent he passes

The walls watch wishing

To tell stories of his past

The lonely god

Retreats to his house

At the top of the hill

Maybe tomorrow

He’ll make a new friend

Bring them to dinner

Feast on their flesh

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