Gods That Show No Mercy
Embalming hearts with fledgling love
then raped in boggy moors,
sailing tender ships of hope
that line the ocean's floor.
The fervor of religious feast
and the pompadour's of faith,
the twisted logic that ensues
when one is full of hate.
Passing of the chalice rounds
as each man takes a sip;
gods that show no mercy,
in their palms the bloodied whip.
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Comments about this poem (Gods That Show No Mercy by Captain Cur )
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