My body is like an ark,

Swaying in tandem to the devil's music:

Satanic, secular, lustful,

Arms raised and face towards

The cracked ceiling plaster,

Shrouded in artificial light

like a discount martyr.

I'm addicted to your madness

I'm addicted to your prayers

I'm addicted to the envy in your voice,

The knives of iron in your tongue.

Take me apart, deconstruct me,

Consume me in the eternity of

Your boundless lies,

Your gluttonous mass that oozes

With false promises, born of

False belief, false idols, false pride

Yes, and I, the false martyr,

And you, the false prophet,

And we, the wrathful,

We, who are consumed by that

Which we have consumed

Until nothing remains but

The dust from which we came,

Sloth and tired,

Groaning wearily into the four winds

As we are dispersed between them

Till nothing is left but the irony

Of our own greed

But yet,

Like an ark, I sway even still,

My prayers to your deaf ears.