Untitled #4

The tattered mess of the past is no concern of mine,

"The truth will set you free" but what's the price of

Your soul's liberation?

Repetition of the massacres and slaughterhouse

Churches, your fantasy gods pissing down on lesser life-forms.


I will set your histories alight and

Build new humans from the ashes; take the rib from

Eve and make a new race of killing names.


You hurt to look at, golden and gleaming, an icon of

Lies, riches, building temples while your followers starve and

Die in the dirt.

I'll never follow, I'll never

Kneel before a deity like you.

The End

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