This took me like 5 minutes to write and I think it's decent enough, constructive criticism is very appreciated.


Delusion weaves its trauma
thus augmented by delight
enshrined by death's radiant aura
and conceived in ceaseless blight.

Ill perceived by the carrion of nothing
fetid with the weight of scorn
among men lies a martyr enthroned
a bearer of a crown of thorns.

Debauchery sleeps with the saints
and dies with those of their devotion
as human nature becomes a restraint
the church is teeming with corruption.

They speak forgiveness and benevolence
exerted by self-righteous judgement
but yet their actions prelate malevolence
intolerance, blind faith, and punishment.
I realized I was god when I prayed and saw that I was talking to myself.
Last edited by VengeanceIsMine at Jul 5, 2008,