With the snap of His fingers, He created light. A beautiful world within days, developed through the stardust that lingered in the emptiness of the place we call space. With green grass that smelt freshly cut, and the sound of the leaves waving through the air. Inching through the cracks within time, basking in its glory, a place we call home. With the snap of His fingers, He created a world full of good. A world we called Earth, that was floating openly through His realm.

Animals roamed, discovering the goddess land He created. Leaving their prints on the surface, so we may find them hidden. The term we call science, coexisting with His creation, but we as humans, chose to forsake it. One day, He decided it was not enough. Animals-in all their beauty-did not serve Him the way He hoped. Rather, they were another piece connecting the puzzle of His art that we call home. He aimed for more; a world full of consciousness. So, with the snap of His fingers, He created a man to follow His footsteps.

"You are shaped with good and love, I have planned it to be so," He said, admiring the love He so thoughtfully gave.

"But my Lord, I don't have free will to control my own. I do not wish to live a life that I cannot authorize."

"What must you have power over? I made you as my own. A result from the dirt that spans this rock, and your soul is penetrated with my love and goodness."

A man created in His perfect image, who will obey by following Him. A man so gorgeously made from His specks of dirt, whose only quest was to radiate good. The man grew lonely, tired, and weary. He did not have free will of his own, his mind suffocated him to be someone more. The Lord knew this, as that was His created son, so He said, "Have a woman of your own, you two are made from one."

"This does not make me happier, my Lord."

"I suppose you are right; you deserve free will. What Lord would I be if I made you suffer through my wills? I love you my son, I always will. I promise your wish is granted. Bathe in your free will."

Let it be known that He gave them control; disappeared from their hearts. They did not follow in His footsteps and thus created a world full of harm. Evil shattered through the specks of space, enveloping Earth. Creating a spiral the Lord did not anticipate. Yet, He wished for the best, and planned all our souls from start to finish in His palace.

"My only begotten son, you will die for them," Lord said, "Because I promised they can have free will, but they are losing their way, and will not follow." Let it be known that His son died so we could have our desire, our power. Yet we blame the Lord for the creation of evil.

"I did not create evil, I created good," He stated.

"But my Lord, the world is full of pain and danger, a world you created. Yet, you sit back and watch us rip each other's throats out. Destroy each other down to the crust of this Earth. Why can you not just make the evil disappear?"

So the Lord repeated, "But I did not create evil, I created good. Evil does not exist; it is the absence of my good."

"My Lord, that does not make sense. You created everything, and you watch us kill ourselves over this rock floating in your space."

"Answer me this, does the concept of cold exist?"

Let it be known that we said, "It is the absence of heat, my Lord," listening to the science that coexists.

There was no reply, and we pursued to ruin the planet that was gifted to us. A planet made from perfection, just for us to accept it. We would loathe Him if His rule commanded us, but we despise Him for allowing us to manifest the absence of good. We took His work for granted, when all He wanted was for us to love the consciousness that we gained with it.

"My Lord!" You call out, begging for answers.

No acknowledgement from your creator. You read a book stated to be His promise; His word. It is not what you envisioned. How could He expect this of us? It is torture, the words He spoke, you thought as you stared at the man-made concept of verses, the Lord did not intend. Translations of the words He spoke did not translate through the path of the good that He mended. So, you call out once more, hoping for your pleas to be heard.

"My Lord, why did you create the Holy Bible? Full of hate? Nonsense?"

Let it be known that the Lord said, "I spoke volumes of my word, my promises, my truth. Evil adapted it to be something it was never symbolized to be." With that, He would never speak to us again.