What foul desire drives you to torment me
With these devilish hypocrites and liars?
What defacing of your ugly idol has caused
You to pour such godliness and holiness
Into my eyes and ears in such stinking shapes
Of robe-men and crotchless women in hulking black?
Did my laughter ring too free, my strength too gentle?
Do my eyes look less than vacant,
Or perhaps my speech is less than hollow?
Is it because I saw as much and more
In the tree that gave its life
To uphold your futile death than I do in you?
Is it because I do not now spit on men
Because their skin is black or yellow?
Is this why you torment me with your 'Noble Life',
And vague concepts of the highest virtue,
Lost somewhere in the midst of other tripe?
Oh, to breathe clean air again,
Air unpolluted by civil stink.
What mountain may I climb to find relief,
Or ocean swim to find some sacred place
Untroubled by the mumbo-jumbo of an idiot priest,
Nor drowned by baptismals font of sickening greed?
Tell me man-upon-a-stick, what realms of reality
Do you hide behind your mask of hypocrisy, if any?
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