In front of the alter he knelt
to watch the wax fall as it melts
He doesn’t feel anything
Behind his eyes he sleeps...

but that’s not what Jesus will see
Confessing his sins on his knees
...routine belief
...obscene deceit

where heresy is just a word
In Royal garb, he reads to serfs
while those who come to serve and pray
add money to the wicker tray

the softest eyes and handshake make
impossible the loss of faith
with balding head and childlike gait
who would think we’d all been feigned?..

Into giving up our intuition
trusting blindly, selling children
brutal, imperialistic religion
devoid of any real intention

and even with awareness brewed
‘Witch’ is uttered and mobs are crewed
to eliminate the disbelief
In the population’s lotus leaf

And while poverty reigns in dirt-filled roads
White collars remind to cater those
who teach your kids a better way
and rob their pockets: Let us Pray

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