pretend that I blaspheme to you: that
every idea your heart
deems true, are
Lies
imagine, in return, you proclaim
to me: what I think is holy,
you
Despise
we could be “frenemies” who start wars
with words,
followers in herds, feeling
Tension
those damn sheep would follow me or you
whomever seems true,
fighting the new
Religion
yet, who am I to say to you, that
I possess “the truth” -
asinine and
Absurd
in the end, we know that to shed blood
over fears
and ideas
and fearful ideas
and deathbed conversions
and
priestly perversions
and sacred texts and creeds
and
exploitation of needs
and belonging to the wrong tribe
and
tithing heavenly bribes
and fire and brimstone
and what we've
always known....
is to cause death by
Words.
