Art and Love

Sometimes I wish,
I believed in God,
And heaven.
How nice it would be.
How comforting.
To believe,
That Jesus loves us.
That God forgives us.
And we don’t just,
Blink out of existence.
Instead we go,
To a much better place,
When we die.

And sometimes I wish,
I believed in the Devil,
And hell.
How nice it would be.
How reassuring,
To believe,
That people aren’t,
Inherently evil.
That the Devil,
Made them that way.
And they’ll get,
What they deserve,
When they die.

But I don’t believe
In God or the Devil.

I believe in art.
Not in a creator,
But in creativity.
So go fill the void,
With your own form.
Write it down its words.
Paint its colors.
Sing its songs.

And I believe in love,
Because we create it.
Like art,
It’s made by us.
So go find someone,
And make some love.
As much as you can.
More than you need.
That way,
You’ll never run out.

And then take comfort,
In all that you’ve created.
With your own art,
Your own love.
And you won’t need God,
Nor the Devil.

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