Post-oblivion

Stranded in the island of nothingness,
There is no unity of thought,
Just a random blob,
As if my existence is a fraught.

There were ample hands but not one finger raised,
Passions rise, but in a trivial haste.
“Let the light decide your fate!”
said God, waking up again.

“I now rise above oblivion”, said the mendicant friar,
“How much can one bear to bear?” said he,
The friar fought his own,
Your sins, he said, are mine.