A Verse That Read…

I’m no preacher for the faithless realist,
Just a soul hollering theist with a truth.
With palms high against backlashing backhands
From puny men idolizing great denial,
Defending their worship from evil Moses
Hailing Noah – in wait for dry seasons.
I beat the gong that caused upheaval.
I Read the verse that called for pickets
On the day I waved off our maker;
For being nothing but lost translation.
I will burn in a world of damnation
For poor choice in figurative expression.
The only Sin that irks dead Kings,
The reason for a future of scarred skin.
A sin in a verse,
A verse that read:
God is dead.


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I am me. I am Me. I write when I want to be free.

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