The Lord Didn't Giveth You The Gun, And He Sure As Shit Didn't Tell You To Pull The Trigger

The feeling's rise without thought's pattern
Confused medley of overplayed saddening sonnets
The heart becomes a beacon of fire
Where soul consumes the fickle scenes of temperate conviction
Care fleeing from the delicate hands that cradled the age's petulant prayers
Gone are the ghostly lips that vied to answer you
Mewing fools stirring their false cauldrons
Too intelligent now to plead ignorance
You must answer the once silent steps laying footprints alongside you
The Earth shalt shudder under the roots of God

Minds fearful twist in degenerate criticism Smirking at a word for being said
Forgiveness was written by the same pen
Tolerance was written by the same pen
Acceptance and brotherhood by the very same pen and yet...You mock?
So quick to judge are you not?
Consuming your time preaching religion's downfall
Forgetting it was simply written...it was individuals just like you who were blindly led
Who accepted the halter of the tyrants who twisted righteous peace
It was individuals who followed evil
Any one of you can pick up a book and see the good
But do you even try to?
Or do you hunt the excitement of wickedness?

It was simply written
Does blame lay with the author?
Does blame lay with the founder?
Or does blame lay with those who never question the tyrant?
So easy to blame the Priest and Vicar
To slight the Rabbi or Imam
Persecute the Monk or Guru
Is it so hard to look at one's self and say...
I was wrong to be led so
I should have read with love in my heart
But I looked to smite
I looked to revelation first
I incanted the passages of God's wrath before reading of peace?
Is it so hard to say to yourself
Wait, anger is so easy, I must read calm, then use my own mind?
Would it be so hard to be inspired by a holy book if it was not called Holy
Were that stigma not attached or it came dressed as Hollywood's Latest
Would you still so readily shun it?
Are you not capable of deciphering metaphorical reason?
Can you not just take the good?
Who's fault is it really
All these years of death?

God?

The Zealot?

Or the weak who followed without question?












From The Book 'Time To Kill'
©David Nickle Read 2014