In our haste we crowned a king
In our haste we bore his sin
In our haste we saw him god
In our haste; born again
Not in life but words of fiction
Another fable carved in stone
His crucifix a graven image
Impotent faith, to die alone
A bastard son of a bastard god
Stolen saviors of ancient tome
Misshapen idols in manmade temples
A bloodied hand across our mouths
Man the martyr; self appointed king
Lied in blood this selfish sin
Cast aside our sanity
The trinity of filth and lies
His majestic pestilent form
A rotted visage of our vanity
A cross a star a glyph
Burnt into our flesh
From our untimely birth
Cast upon us until death
And so we stand, ever waiting the end
Eyes skyward, ever waiting the end
Vacuous words read by naïve eyes
Coaxed out of pages, best forgotten
Cast a trillion shadows in their wake
Lay waste to all that we know
Bloated apes feign ignorance
Cloth to hide our guilt the stems
Our murderous nature in pastel rouge
This morality we attempt to fain
Man built God creates the veil
It hangs before us all and waits
Those who choose its warm caress
Dignify this empty fate
angelic mythos cracked in the kiln
Shards embedded in the mouths of liars
Charged nature as unfit
disfigured the sanctity of love
Tore down all that is good, all that is whole