The sky was immense, limitless,
off school on wooden clogs,
I flew across a clover field
till I was stopped by a mundane bird
which appeared to have a broken wing.
With a stone I killed it
’cause that’s what one does
with wounded birds!
Right!

Then I noticed its nest,
four modest green speckled eggs,
the product of a bird
which wasn’t going to win any beauty contest.
In self disgust I trampled on the eggs,
an omelette of hate,
since they were not going to hatch anyway.

Looked up, the sky was no longer limitless,
but cryptic and I said:
God, forgive me.”
I was met with deep ear shattering silence
and knew from that moment
that there is no God,
and that I’ve to carry my cross of guilt alone.