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 naive 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


Religion, in all its forms is based on one thing; control. It is a set of beliefs which is created to indoctrinate, suppress and strangle the thoughts of those who choose to embrace it. It holds nothing more substantial than the rambling thoughts of groups of humans who wished to use it for one purpose or another. Stories and fables stolen from older stories and fables, passed on, edited, copied hundreds of times to suit whoever needed it as a vehicle for their own gain. The Christ figure we know was stolen from the stories of Adonys, Osiris, Hercules, Perseus, Mithra and many more. Religion only works by relying on the past for blurred inaccuracies to become truths. Christ never existed. God never existed. We are a subspecies of ape, nothing more.