𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔾𝕆𝔻 𝕀ℕ 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕄𝕀ℝℝ𝕆ℝ

Who forgives God  
for the days He doesn’t  
answer?  

Who absolves the Almighty  
when the child cries  
and the room stays empty?  

Does He look in the mirror  
and see the cracks  
in His own omniscience,  
the nights He whispered  
I don’t know  
into the void  
and the void  
whispered back?  

Maybe divinity  
is just the heaviest  
kind of guilt—  
to have the power  
and still  
choose to watch.  

Maybe God’s hell  
is knowing  
every name  
He couldn’t save.  

So who forgives Him?  
Maybe no one.  

Maybe that’s why  
He made us—  
not to worship,  
but to teach Him  
how to live  
with blood on His hands  
and still  
plant gardens. 

-𝕃ℝ πŸ–€ 

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