A crown of thorns on my head.
I'm laughing soon,
I never asked for anything except "Why?"
An answer. "Why?"
"Why have you forsaken me?"
Sadistic isn't it?

I never mention sacrilige,
And I never talk about blasphemy.
I haven't read the Bible.
Who wrote that?
God didn't have a pen,
Yet He designed us.

I shudder. Nailed to wood. RIP.
The alcoholic flowers drink my water.
Hallelujah! Wear my pain around your neck.
**** your fellow man,
Because he must die like I did,
For his crazy beliefs.

We had an unholy alliance,
you and I.
You played the Pope,
the devil me.
You were so fine,
you turned me
sinner.
And I would do it
all over again,
just to sip
from your chalice,
break your bread,
run my fingers
through
your sacrilige,
turn my blood
into your wine.