Prayers of Tired People

Our Father, who art in heaven, I ask of you, make me a sea,

Such that, my Lord, I'm not polluted by holy rivers that spill into me, 

Father, are you not meant to be kind, and yet, my holy Lord, you call,

My self-satisfaction a sin, Lord, tell me why, my virtue is yours and belongs to you, and,

My son, it remains mine, and of my person, such that I can make it, and play with its ears, grant me this knowledge, why my nature is to sin, why it flows within the walls of my veins. 

Our Father, who art in heaven, we proclaim that your kingdom come, 

But father, there ain't a kingdom that hathn’t fallen,

They have killed kings for lesser things than you have done, Lord, then,

Hallowed be thy name, for maybe it will save you, but,

I'll sin betting, and say, your name’ll have you killed.

Our Father, who art in heaven, we shall do on Earth, as thou,

Doth do in heaven, but rather, if Earth doth mirror heaven, then, 

We shall be born to hell, once we finish the task, tedious as it is, of living, 

For in a good and heavenly Earth, there shall be love, 

But you've dictated it sin, and sin is sin and sin is mine alone, this hell shall sing.