wooden girder
Has a not very cool word
Is about Hypocritical ideologies
||Gods of virtue, born of r@pe
Build cathedrals of screams
For your salvation never came
You’ve bred your Cain
In waters once pure
What of Abel's blood?
Quietly, it'll endure.
Offer truth to the few
Temptation to the many
Jesus in chains you view
When I through poetry
Break the flesh, call it a mirror
Reflect me a shadow that was never mine
Wrapped in cloth, seeing no clearer
You call it your mother’s womb
On reason you dine
Like an hourglass
Broken and choking on its own sand,
Slaughter you oppose
When it’s not wrought by your hands.||
frozen basin