Tuesday, October 18, 2005

My Religion

Hymns of Horror, Divine distress;
Prayers of panic, spiritual stress;
tears of trepidation, holy hell;
rhythms of ruin, venerable vice;

oh! great religion, I bow to thee;
I genuflect at your altar of acerbity FOR -

thoughtless though I am not, toothless I am;
guiltless though I am not, gutless I am;
hopeless though I am not, heartless I am;

A powerless pawn caught in this chequered web,
struggling and lost in this winding maze,
seeking solace in the unknown dread,
beaten, broken, bloodied, helpless... MAN.

1 Comments:

Blogger Ray Lightning said...

This is true genius moby. I loved this poem

7:09 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home