The Worship Of False Gods - Poem by Paula Glynn
Oh, how mighty the gods have risen,
The holy gods that dominate this world,
A world where distress is abound,
Just see the news,
Hatred spread like a disease.
But these gods tempt us all,
That we somehow are forgiven,
For our crimes,
That we can deny,
The blood on our hands,
And mud that smear our faces.
As we march, shout and protest,
Our rights, and we ask,
Where god is in all of this,
And we wonder if we’re wrong,
But it is just an inkling,
For we are right,
And we protect the world with a fight.
They assume the mercy of false gods,
There is no god: why would,
He leave us in hell? The ancient Egyptians,
With their pharaohs, preaching,
A false fate, and the Greeks,
Their gods and goddesses always fighting.
How to explain a confusing world,
A world that has always suffered,
But time marches on,
Like the soldiers in the battlefield,
Like the judges and executioners,
Make the world turn,
And in this world, we all burn,
No one ever seen the exception,
And when Jesus was, he was crucified,
A man, the son of god,
Made to suffer this world,
But no one under the feathered wings
Of the archangel of the true god, suffers,
For all the angels sing,
Taking the need for false gods away.
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