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 [bad word] a graven image
Impotent faith, to die alone

[bad word] son of a [bad word] god
Stolen saviors of ancient tome
Misshapen idols in manmade temples
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
rotted visage of our vanity

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