Just Let Me Create

He has seen the end of God, opened his door to all reasoning, forsaking the beauty and failed to grasp neither life nor death.
The red roses fall to dust, nothing is lost, but misery begins. Why?
My Father, my father, the shades are against me, but I know not what I fight.
The colors interest me, but all seems fading to grey. 
Intimacy places a demand, why does love demand sacrifice? I will have none of it.
Suspended in gravity, life and death disown me.
The trifles that call from the other side, I know I have a bad habit attending to them.
Am I focused, or am I just dumb? Both are state of mind

Lord, just let me create. I don't care if I burn... I'll live again.