plan b

call me a heritic. call me a traitor. all Providence has ended. onward to the primative. everyone for themselves(this shouldn't be too hard for us, we've had our practice with it already.) these hands can craft salvation. we looked redemption in the eye and ran. now this mind must concieve a new way in. don't let them see you falling. don't let them see you crying. you can do this on your own. i was finding my own path. i was doing just fine too, with the exception of the blood on my hands. then Your voice called to me. it took me away. outside of time. i saw my life in slow motion. start to end. every word and every move. i cringed as i saw every mistake grow and cast a shadow over me. i watched as every failure ran its course an dmet at Your hands. this is what You had in mind. every action stripped of its meaning. nothing i do can change You.