The sky was dark, the earth was bright,
Its green was all a gray.
It dawned on me that very night,
I must leave this world to stay.
No bricks or wood could my home make,
No fire could keep me warm.
The truth had been a grave mistake,
Its safety had brought harm.
The Son of Man, The Son of God,
By chance, there was a plan.
What made sense was very odd,
That God should be a man.
I found my life in dying, then;
My weakness made me strong.
Self-hatred let me love again,
Set apart, I now belong.
by A.S.A. Jones from ex-atheist.com