For The Blessed
This I write, while I am weary,
though I'm so afraid my theory
will prove that the worst I fear is true .
Look upon the dying masses,
see that all will breathe the gasses
and the fumes, from which the poisons spew.
Question those who still might wonder
why God chose to yield his thunder
unto ones who thought they understood?
He alone decides the fate
of all those who congregate.
Is it for us to choose who’s bad or good?
So the battle rages on,
it's your faith you draw upon
to ensure that you are safe and sound.
Look before you leap, my friend,
Sunday morning may not end
with both feet still planted on the ground.
Peer into your pompous souls,
bless the virgin, pay the tolls,
your perception's just as good a mine.
Perchance things that you perceive
someone else does not believe,
what doth make you think you're so divine?
In your mouth, you utter "bitches,"
those that you condemn as witches,
you're so sure their spells are to dispute.
Still, let's wonder where it's quoted
that the holy waters' noted
much more sacred than the eye of newt?
Enough! So you think you're shrewd
with your righteous attitude,
decrying that their lying, you offend.
If heaven is a real space
then there may be another place
where you'll be anointed,
in the end!