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A poem about a certain person's brothers. This is NOT a 'bashing of religion'. |
| Evil, holy bastard. Bring me the hammer, I’ll do it myself. Nail him onto his coffin: his holy vessel to his father. Tell strangers for so long, the love of the Lord. Damn hypocrite! We live in a desert of love! Cook us in the knowledge that you won’t come home. Let our flavours run, horrid, bitter cake. Now see as fate twists you! Contorts your face, Oxymoron. Preacher and criminal, Son of God? Public Anti-Christ. Fare thee well, brother. You face God’s hand. Leave your home, Do not return. For now you belong In your father’s house. |