Heathen’s Hand

I am no son of god
No devil’s spawn
I am a symbol of your world
And all that is wrong
Within your broken cult
A cultural crime
You want what is yours
Yet take what is mine

It is the nature of belief
To refuse the real
To take it all in good faith
But what you have you steal
You are murder, you are pain
An illusion’s fool
Chosen by a doctrine’s way
To be that doctrine’s tool

My nature’s natures way
I have the upper hand
You can keep your fantasies
When nature takes a stand
Strips the flesh from corrupt bones
Foundations of your faith
I shall not pray, nor forgive
When all is laid to waste

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

<span>%d</span> bloggers like this: