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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: faith

  • God, Explain – A Poetic Lament on Injustice and Faith by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    God, Explain came from that raw, restless place we all visit when the world feels unbearably unfair. It’s a lament, a scream into the void, asking why those who give, who love, who try to make life better for others, often feel left behind, while the greedy and selfish seem to thrive.

    This poem isn’t just about faith or religion—it’s about justice, morality, and the frustration of seeing inequity everywhere. It’s about holding hope in one hand and despair in the other, demanding answers when the silence is deafening.

    I wanted the language to feel immediate, confessional, and unpolished—because sometimes the heart cannot dress its pain in elegance. God, Explain is my questioning, my pleading, my refusal to stay silent when the imbalance of the world feels unbearable.

    It’s for anyone who has ever looked at the world and wondered, why?

    Lone figure on a cliff under a stormy sky, looking up in frustration and questioning, with rain falling around them.
    When the world rewards the greedy and the good suffer, we lift our voices—asking, God, explain.

    God, Explain
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Everybody wants to get rich—
    me? I just want to fucking live.
    To survive, to thrive,
    to reach out my hands—
    to help those in need.

    So I ask—

    God, if you’re real,
    why don’t you move?
    Why don’t you open the doors
    I’ve been pounding on?
    Line my pockets with gold
    not for me, not for pride,
    but for the ones
    who need it most.

    And yet…

    The hateful, the cruel, the greedy—
    they always have it.
    Always.
    Money in their pockets,
    power in their hands,
    while the good ones
    starve in the dark.

    I don’t get it.
    I can’t make sense of it.
    Even as I speak to you,
    even as I pray,
    my heart sinks.

    Why is it always the greedy?
    The selfish?
    Those who ignore the needy,
    yet wrap themselves
    in your name?

    Can you explain that to me?
    Can you explain why I—
    who only want to give,
    who only want to see people rise—
    get left behind?

    I don’t believe.
    I don’t believe in fairness,
    in justice,
    in you.
    And I scream it
    because I can’t be silent anymore.
    I need to know.
    Why?

    You can find more of my work in the full archive—[here]—in the Library of Ashes.

  • The 13 Mirrored Gospels | A Liturgy for the Twisted Reflections of Self — Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    🖤 Author’s Note 🖤

    Each of these gospels was born from a silence I refused to keep. The 13 Mirrored Gospels is my reckoning with faith, identity, and the inherited wounds of expectation. These are not sermons for the saved — they are psalms for the broken, whispered through smoke and mirrorlight.

    Read carefully.

    The smoke is watching.

    A dimly lit gothic altar with candles, smoke, and shattered mirrors — representing “The 13 Mirrored Gospels” by Rowan Evans.
    Read carefully. The smoke is always watching.

    🖤 The 13 Mirrored Gospels 🖤
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    “There are no saints in these gospels—
    only shadows that learned to speak.”
    — Rowan Evans

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    I. The Gospel of Mirrors

    Step inside.
    Watch yourself rot in reverse.
    Every smile you wore as armor,
    now bleeding at the edges.
    The mirror never lied.
    You just kept asking the wrong questions.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    II. The Gospel of Silence

    Not the silence of peace—
    the silence after impact.
    The quiet that follows
    when every scream is spent,
    and all that’s left
    is the echo of your own denial.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    III. The Gospel of Golden Lies

    They dipped their cruelty in gold leaf
    and called it kindness.
    They said “light saves”
    while tightening the noose.
    Shine is not salvation.
    Shine is strategy.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    IV. The Gospel of the Sainted Wound

    She told me pain makes you beautiful.
    So I made myself a masterpiece.
    Now they can’t look at me
    without flinching.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    V. The Gospel of Velvet Ruin

    I dressed my rage in elegance—
    because pretty things bleed quieter.
    Because if I scream in silk,
    they call it poetry,
    not proof.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    VI. The Gospel of the Haloed Knife

    They told me love was soft.
    So when I bled, I thought I was wrong.
    Turns out, some loves
    come serrated.
    Turns out, mine did too.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    VII. The Gospel of the Unknown Reflection

    The mirror shows my face,
    but it isn’t me—
    just a shadow stitched from language,
    from names that never fit.

    They told me what to be:
    man, believer, saved—
    but I only felt the ache
    between those words.

    Now even silence
    flinches.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    VIII. The Gospel of Smoke-Laced Psalms

    I wrote devotion in ash,
    but they wanted ink.
    So I choked on incense
    until my prayers tasted like
    what they’d believe.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    IX. The Gospel of Unholy Softness

    I offered tenderness.
    They saw weakness.
    I offered truth.
    They called it unstable.
    So now I offer nothing
    but teeth.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    X. The Gospel of Reverse Reverence

    I bowed to nothing—
    not out of pride,
    but protection.
    Every altar I’ve knelt before
    asked for a piece of me.
    I’ve run out of offerings.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    XI. The Gospel of Misnamed Miracles

    They called my survival
    a phase.
    A scream for attention.
    But I was just trying
    to exist loud enough
    to feel real.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    XII. The Gospel of Heretics and Honey

    I tasted joy once.
    Sweet. Brief.
    But it rotted faster than grief.
    I keep it in a jar now,
    like a dead bee.
    Just in case.

    𖤐𓆩 🜏 𓆪𖤐

    XIII. The Gospel of the Flame That Didn’t Save Me

    They said fire cleanses.
    But all it did
    was remind me
    what burning feels like
    from the inside.

    More Gospels, Psalms & Riddles

    The Gospel of Softness III: Thirteen Psalms for the Tender-Hearted

    13 Psalms of Falling: A Sapphic Confessional Litany of Softness & Sacred Ruin

    13 Riddles for the Starborn Child

    XIII Psalms for the Goddess in My Mouth