Speak of the devil and the devil is you.
A devil dressed up in an earthly do
Who speaks of the heaven without a clue
And chants sacred vows of some greater truth.
For some, faith comes in a type of routine
Deciding whether or not to eat your favourite meat.
Hatred is like an offended price.
The price you pay when you say
“I don’t believe in Christ!”
Not this but that is clearly defined,
And some scriptures you have to abide by.
As how can one be termed holy?
If one doesn’t sit in the church bowing.
Rituals, rites and rosary held tight
Do they make up for the things that aren’t divine?
Because can we say with our head held high,
That we have not ever in life lied
Neither have cried in pain nor jealous have been,
As these are the things we aren’t meant to feel.
Ever since the preachers have held the helm
Our holy ships have been anchored to hell.
Burdened with the weight of dos and don’ts
That their faiths made us swear by oath.
Why is perjury held as a crime
When we perjure ourselves daily
In a heavenly disguise?