Born out of wedlock
Just another bastard
Just like Jesus Christ
And I'm feeling all enraptured
Got tired of the pastors
Preaching out disaster
Twisting out the sermons
Of a mutilated master
I heard it from the pulpit
Jesus was a culprit
Flipping over tables
And just pouring out His fullness
Water into wine
Turned the party to the fullest
Offending everyone
As He'd call them on their bullshit
Living by a doctrine
Feeling all forgotten
Then Jesus drops a line
To make the claim that you are sovereign
Riling up the squadrons
Refused to play it caution
Never hesitating
‘Cause He knew He was the Option
Don't take it all for granted
Nails have pierced his hands, man
Evil running wild
While religion leaves you stranded
It's time to take a standing
Revolt against the branding
As these wounds callous over
I'll no longer be commanded
They treat you like an offering
Like you were just their livestock
Had to pay the bills
So they needed money, tick tock
Put you on the altar
Cause the greedy need their price shock
Weird to see a church
Turned from temple into dive shop
Left them with the mice drops
Leper coalition
Through the binding and the reigns
Still couldn't steer me to perdition
Granted, it was hell
But I knew it weren't my mission
So I got out of the furnace
And I'm living just forgiven
A pretty simple concept
No need to script a doctrine
Just living out my life
No more hauling around the coffin
I think about it often
Simply being sovereign
It's a pill that's hard to swallow
But it beats being forgotten
Take it with a grain of salt
Seasoning the Gospel
There was a man named Jesus
And he was treated awful
Turned the other cheek instead
Of raising a debacle
As he chose to walk in love
As the unprecedented model
© HeartOfBabel
- Author: Garathe Den (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 15th, 2021 10:54
- Comment from author about the poem: I was in a conversation and the topic of Christianity came up, and it got me thinking about how the person called the Christ, Jesus, is often quite different in depiction from the Bible compared to many of the institutional church sermons. People have a way of crafting religion out of virtually anything, no Christ or Allah needed, and even the tiniest of sentences can be manipulated to create a persuasive and controlling doctrine. But right now is Sunday, and so I wanted to take this person, Jesus, and write a poem that I feel is merited. Ignoring all those brimstone sermons, altar calls and pressures of penance, here is my Sunday sermon.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 22
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