Conceit Of The Gods, By Brian37 (AKA Brian37 on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

In the throngs of conformity
They prattle incessantly
About their necessity
For your cause of existence

It is their insistence
Mandates your compliance
Or bolts from the sky
Will strike and you’ll die

Not that it ends there
In a pit of fire is where
They claim you will be
If you don’t bow to thee

Oh how droll these threats
Fall on ears of intellect
Dust they should collect
Stop pestering me

I know your motive
Is intimidation
Then a dozen roses
Followed by

A hollow apology
My brain you’ll eat
Giving it a bully’s
Eulogy

You want me
To be that calf
Weak and scared
And trusting

Looking for a herdsman
But I know that butcher
Smiles clanks
The dinner bell

I see his bulls and bovine
And sows, the chickens
Run to to the troughs
Ready to eat from fantasy

But they are unaware
The slaughter to come
But they had no chance
They were sold the baby bottle

At birth, before they could think
With the critical skills of adults
They cannot win on debate
With such well armored mates

They briefly conquer
And fill the pews
But even the holy man
Death befalls too

The Gods will feel
The same thing I did
Before I was born
The same thing after I die.

Nothing.
(end)