the words are uninspired
but people blindly follow
I watch but don't comprehend
it appears that I wallow

in bitter, tired, seething rage
instead of embracing
that's what they've all said at least.
that I'm just unforgiving.

but when I was ten years old
I stare out the window all night
with your words in my ears
the only thing that was really mine

and I worshiped, I obsessed
became a perfect, loyal subject.
my personality grew around
the ideals you'd project

but that wasn't enough
for my lofty deity
you threw away all of the light
you'd dared to shine on me

and fused it to empty gestures,
fake sentiments and pretension
I could never come to grips
with that final deception.

so you may now rear your head,
and say that you've returned
"the second coming of our messiah!"
as far as they're concerned

but I can never trust you
my oh so self aware God
you've shown your true colours
and the light you shined has gone.