Having some fun with the sonnet form here. Comments and criticism always welcome.
This one is dedicated to Spas.
Are all religions nothing but a fraud?
Was every single prophecy a lie?
And is it wrong to think a lonely god
Saw fit to create men who live and die?
In all this empty space, stars pale and dim
Glimmer in an empty, sable sphere.
Are there none to hear us when we cry to him?
Are there none but stars and nebulae anywhere?
In all the universe’s deep infinity
Are we the only sentient ones who can
Contemplate the notion of divinity,
And in the spiraling galaxies discern a plan?
How melancholy if it were for certain known
That through the black of space we drift alone.
–Stephen P. Smith