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vik Jun 17
she lieth clay, huff fled, withdrawn;
sun sleeps unturned, no lilt, no dawn.

the child stands silent, priests deceive,
she lingers not, the Lord won’t breathe.

they spake of light, of rule, of psalm,
yet death embraced what once was warm.

he looked and found the flesh laid bare;
at last he grasped, God was not there.
Gideon Mar 8
We are bugs under his shoes.
Not a loved child, in terrible two’s.
Disobedient children couldn’t be so far.
We are grains of sand, and he is a star.
Trample our cities under his feet.
We believe he loves us, an epic conceit.
So full of ourselves, we hope he will serve us.
We pray for glory, success, and surplus.
Yottalomaniac Sep 2024
Here I was told to rest
though with quill in hand I wrest
I fight setting paper alight
with heaven dark and hell bright

Hell is mine and His is heaven
Of that there was no question
Though neither were mine:
It was just
this war of mine…

So I lost sight
of day and night
and spent my life in fright.
I find it curious that writing this one poem complaining about religion has given me more peace than prayer ever has.
Santiago A Sep 2024
When we were born,
we were afraid of the unknown.
The monsters, ghosts, and creatures.

We grew up.

As children we imagined
and believed in the fantastical,
The pixies, wizards, and dragons.

We grew up.

As teenagers we found connection
and believed in the supernatural
The demons, devils, and angels

I grew up.

And you continue believing in
demons, devils, and angels.
ex-christian now atheist. Sad my religious ex left because I don't believe in what she believes.
Not looking to debate, just writing my thoughts.
Kitt Sep 2023
I found healing there
It's like He was speaking to me in my Walk
‘Chew your gum, girl,
For the smells they pump through the pipes is meant to tempt you.
Lascivious meats and unholy spices’
So redeem yourself when you stray
Gosh, heck it all and **** it
But under God, Hell awaits the ******.
‘I am covered by the blood of the lamb
So I shall be saved’
Same chapter, different verse
I am ****** all the same.
xjf Aug 2023
Regardless of my choice of origin
Whether I'm a bipedal ape,
or molded out of clay and rib
I sense it fruitless
To let the complexities of the cosmos
cause me strain

It does me no good
To give unrelenting effort
to a greed-like god
named “Understanding”

I am to wonder and wander
I am to live and love
I am to dance and ponder
To be free
of what's above
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