Author: Katy Coutley

The first week,

a new world.

The song of flight:

music of life anew.


I worked with clay,

but only then.

Critters crawled,

humans walked.


They called me a god,

made my name sacred,

put my words in stone.


How could they say

my deeds were godly

when my mercy was a fallacy?


Blood spilled,

raped in my name.

Family feuds.

War’s unholy cry.


Who am I

to claim the skies,

own the seas?


Depravity, jealousy…

I have made them

after my own image,

in my own likeness.


My history is murky,

my words ambiguous,

used as swords.


I carry on.

My command, your sin.


And so, I long

for those first days.

For paradise.