silent-rose7

This is not a falling from grace But a clearing of the mind. No longer will I remain a wolf in sheep's clothing. Unable to partake of the bread, Fearing passage by the hands of the discriminatorily pious. I cannot watch them flock like moths to a synthetic flame. Lambs leading each other to the sacramental slaughter On the trail to the jaws of the lioness. And what of you? What do you presume of the afterlife? Tell me, What is the purpose of a narrow road If not simply to increase the death toll? If inquiry is unconsecrated I will not argue entitlement of blasphemer. Enlighten us, What is the virtue of denying Everything you