Look me in the eye
Hear the cadence of the blood drip,
And understand the quaint meaning
Of this short life.
The pernicious formidability
Of greater thoughts
Plagues the mind of the love struck-youth,
The message that lures you to Him.
Comprehension of interpretations
Fall unto deaf ears.
The cults of ancient myths
Lure both children and older minds,
Simply with the promise of salvation.
But salvation, as "we" know it
Is an impossible state
Of manic behavior.
Your lord,
A foe in the mighty face
Of the non-believer,
Lies and cheats.
He is hypocritical,
He has placed a double-standard,
He has taken those "children"
We thought we loved.
Acceptance, a feeble-minded rendition
Of denial, is an insult to those
Who know better.
He takes, He gives,
For which I am not thankful.
This life, one riddled with
Rhetorical answers
Knows the pain of a cursed presence.
Godless, friendless, and weightless,
This cursed life is good for one thing;
Living.
