"End time's detection"
is what I've been hearing,
and, frankly, I'm pissed at the tone...
the ones to give it credence ...
ones wearing a smirk...
Then, that ax they summarily hone.
See, I'm leery of those
proud of faith they've not tested—
those plainly damned by Comenius.
He painted as worthless an untested faith;
he said "[useless, inutile and valueless]."
Diderot nailed it! He got it in one!
He allowed that we'd always be "nuts"...
...until such a time as the last King inline...
...choked that last Priest
with that King's steaming guts!
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
Metaphoric pretensions?
I have intuition
I have intuition
regarding a child thought *bad*.
prophesy fulfilled—
it's contrived, but you're glad!
it's contrived, but you're glad!
That kid is an innocent
her value "assigned,"
personhood sold-out's percentage.
They're but grease for a wheel
and dealt their raw deal...
Assigned their sad lives as their image.
What's faith but abuse
when conveniently used
when conveniently used
and employed as a weapon, you see?
Faith's not permission
to doom by oppression,
to doom by oppression,
precluding one's right to be free!
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«*¥*»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
It's self-fulfilling prophesy, then,
contrived to foul congruence,
as the child, is a child ... is a child.
Remaining mistreatment,
insured by malfeasance,
provides for these "sullen" gone wild!
It was us, so inured
—in the throws of *conviction*—
that we, too quick by half,
would set our minds.
It was us contrived dictation
on the way that child suffers?
It was us provoked this loss;
the loss is ours we've come to find!
Your *Bible*?
...Mere shadow...
of all that's been told,
of all that's been told,
all the words of it
worms on a log.
worms on a log.
Your tale's recounted
many times in the past
many times in the past
—Osiris and Hercules
account the Christ story!
account the Christ story!
When Christ comes along?
He's corrupted by dogs!
Faith as applied?
...An inadequate drug
...An inadequate drug
when the slings of reality wound.
Don't count on a brother,
accuse your abuser,
accuse your abuser,
or work to improve
the conditions construed!
the conditions construed!
No, count on your *faith*
to sustain you through ignorance;
count on a *faith*...
that diminishes you!
that diminishes you!
"A lie in the fog,"
I've heard it described—
I've heard it described—
"an opiate's brainless refrain."
It celebrates Able
then hates the dissensions...
that God's surely
sparked up in Cain!
sparked up in Cain!
I'm suspecting a nonsense
and a wrong
that we're taught!
that we're taught!
Are we having it backwards?
It would seem
we've been mocked!
we've been mocked!
Maybe Able smirked and sneered,
and Cain's, perforce, provoked!
...A frame-up, then;
who was this Cain...
who was this Cain...
...And, who's writ-up
his re-think, but spoke!
his re-think, but spoke!
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