 | Through the wretched dust of shattered dreams A presence rising ghost like from Down Deep. The deathly silent Penetrating Screams. A Hole in the Soul like the Fade of the Memories we keep. If you can tolerate the Mocking Sanguine Skies And bow your head and stare ahead and Predicate the Lies. While now the truth’s too hard to take, And pain is all too raw The memory will linger on; there is no Before anymore. Alone a naked child in a Cold Confessional. Daddy’s gone and Mommy fathoms not the Beast. The searing pain that Molds the Chain, The Tortured Vacant Weep Falls like Bitter Raindrops, Unforgiving, Uninspired, Cheap. Sacred Father, Ghost and Son Come my baby, Baby Come. Second to Nun, if none for a Second. Forgiveness, we pray, when we are reckoned. Judge the Judge, Cash the Catechism, Ban the Baptism, Fan the Fanaticism. Hallow my Helmet, Fake the Tears, Bless my Hypocrisy, Canonize my Fears. Mock my Significance, and Malice my Mind, Denigrate my Heaven, and Sacrifice my Kind. Lowly Spirits Rape our Brothers, Holy Scriptures Fool our Mothers, Slowly Rising, God is Great, Faith Based Waste in a World of Hate. |
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