In its putrid shade you covet my desire
of wisdom so putrid it rots in its blight
and my treacherous faith with shall set it afire
is that which buries the ashes as you obscure the light.

Savage is the pain you attain through salvation
becoming contempt as you speak tribulation
eternally crushed by your own conviction
haunted by thoughts of your savior's crucifixion.

Suffocate in your doubts as you unearth the lies
buried in time lies the answer to life
the truth shall pierce through you like a thorn in your heart
and your fragile delusion shall soon after fall apart.

When you find there is nothing you'll disown your devotion
and your withering soul will be cleansed of emotion
without the hindrance of faith, indulgence becomes your master
setting you free from the life of a slave to the altar.

Constructive criticism is appreciated, Thanks in Advance.
I realized I was god when I prayed and saw that I was talking to myself.