A sort of response to John C Wright's description of his vision of God

SCRIPTURE

No thing, or place, or time. Spark flickers dies.
Gone universe. It lasted all our years
comets fucks symphonies. Ended in tears.
That end. Or aren't. We're dust, but dust that lies

better than hopeless truth. Blood from a scratch
chili on tongue. A single perfect line.
Better than gods. One moment you were mine
Live die. To live is dying – that's the catch,

Contractual. Joy costs. These are the facts.
No gods but those we made up in our head
helped us to kill or love. They're just as dead.
We will not be remembered for our acts.

Stumble for meaning. If it's there, we're blind.
A second's light. Make art and love. Be kind.