When A God Bleeds

Cause of things― 
finding in myself in solitary 
manner, reaping 
the harvest of failures. 

The ghost of a town 
roils under the protests. 
Nobody knows the ― 
length of suffering. 

Me and my god― 
we are one. Nobody else 
was entitled to live. 

The half-burnt bodies, 
making a crowd at the bank 
of a holy river. At least they 
were not shot in the head. 

Reasons were flawless. 
Fallacy was truth.