Mr. Religion
Mr. Religion, can you tell me why you run?
If your faith is so damn solid,
And your morals so pristine,
Then why, oh why,
Is this empty book your Master,
And you its ever-trusting Slave?
Wouldn't your morals tell you, Mr. Religion,
That such hatred isn't right?
You and your delusions
Have shown me how to feel this way,
Have shown me how to trust in knowing,
That you are oh so very wrong.
Attempt to chill the Hinterland fever,
That thrives outside your church.
Preach to we witches of fire
While you throw stones from your perch.
Mr. Religion, are you afraid of Magick?
Copyright © Shannah Short | Year Posted 2005
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