I spit liquor into your face
I light it on fire
You bitch ass mother fucking disgrace
You’ve earned my ire

Let me tell you straight and level
You work for the goddamned devil
Hands raised praising the sky above
You are the enemy of love
A hypocrite
Who doesn’t even know it

The gift of your hypocrisy
Was a robbery of my serendipity
Because your king Lucifer, the murderous lord of stupidity
Commanded you to protect your daughter from a monk under a vow of celibacy

Your heart lacking a drop of the Holy Spirit
You wouldn’t know a good thing if you saw it
Instead you run furiously in the opposite direction
Closing your eyes and covering your ears in desperation

Now I’ll tell you something really outrageous
Your stupidity is contagious
Everyone around you cowed to your program of isolation and ignorance
But they didn’t become such hateful idiots by happenstance
You taught them to do it with your paranoid musing
Because in any group of godless sheep only one person is thinking

There is no commandment to prevent what you were afraid of
The problem is you don’t have a working definition of love
The Bible you read might as well be in Hebrew
Because if you understood it, you wouldn’t know what to do
You think divine service is wearing a kippah on a trip to Tel Aviv
But when someone needs your help you promptly leave
And block every phone call
So the things God wants you to learn will be muddled voices at the far end of the hall

The one needing help wasn’t only me
It was also your daughter
Now neither of you will ever see
The divine mysteries I would have revealed to her
Which would have made her heart grow full
And her genius mind would grow fast and strong
Instead of a life of events commonplace and dull
Because you told her that’s where good girls belong

So instead of walking arm in arm with the definition of beauty
I endure deceptive rants from every sort of extra-planar entity
While your pastors and priests praise you as a pillar of the community
And they call me crazy in your world of insanity
And ignorance, isolation, hatred, and vanity

She won’t even check Facebook
She will never even take a look
She will never see
That no matter where I am or who I am with, this memory
Will linger eternally deep within my center
In that place where only she, annually, wearing linen soaked in blood may enter

Good job, fucker.

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