top of page
  • Writer's pictureGarathe Den


I cringe at the thought

A timeless superstition

Congregations subdued

By the bonds of religion

Like sorcery cast

Through doctrines of division

No adversary in sight

Just faithless decisions

The contempt I can feel

As they bring blame to a fault

The distance that's drawn

As all love's held to halt

Where unity's lost

To the embracing of cults

And the deepest dark secrets

Now fester and convulse

Their words released softly

While their heart is a sneer

Their teeth jeering smiles

While their eyes shine of fear

Their love is as vacant

As the warmth of their peers

All efforts applauded

To the control they adhere

Their tightly knit doctrines

Their deeds of straight-jackets

Their prayer and their fasting

Testimonious rackets

All the work and the toil

And the striving in sabbath

Where charisma's an act

Just a stale force of habit

And their sermons are belted

To the withering masses

And demons are felt

By the worship of brasses

Each note orchestrated

To mimic the ashes

Of long forgot prophets

Filling tombs, rot and gaseous

No life has been beckoned

No tombs laying bare

No revival in sight

Where no truth is declared

No freedom, no wisdom

No kingdom, beware

For the gods of religion

Will answer no prayer

They'll sit you in the pews

Just to fade in the hollows

Where the roots intertwine

To then strangle and swallow

For only in your death

To conform is to follow

Where your utter submission

Brings the pride which they wallow

For such is the timeless

The ancient epistles

Written in blood

From the flesh deemed uncivil

No matter how vile

No matter how dismal

To atone for their sins

The whole world's sacrificial

Recent Posts

See All



Les commentaires ont été désactivés.
Post: Blog2 Post
bottom of page