We have put holiness on a pedestal and named it purity
As if angels can't be drunks loitering outside liquor stores
As if messiahs can't be children with blood stained palms
We step on broken glass in vain
We rip ourselves apart to be holy
To stand with the superior
We act as if the gods aren't people with scars on their skin and sins in their hearts
As if the blind followers aren't lambs in the slaughterhouse
Who fooled us into thinking power can be claimed by being good
Who taught us that the righteous should be worshipped
Our Anarchy is more pure than the blood spilt by church
I long to hold belief in my hands and crush it
To see the devastation of the hopeful
For how can people fall for a trick that doesn't exist.
VOUS LISEZ
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoésieStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
