As God

I do not like this idea.
Because of its unfortunate shortcomings
I will cease to write it down.
It was promising at first
until the inspiration ran as dry
as the cracked skin of the desert.
It does not whimper, does not 
beg for another chance,
it simply accepts its fate
in the dustbin-
to languish with all the rest.
They do not die
but they do not live.
They wait
hoping for redemption,
hoping for salvation.
Both are possible
though unlikely.
On occasion 
my hand will reach down
and bestow a blessing,
restoring life
to the luckiest of the damned.