I am love, power of, all below and above
Creator, I'm a traitor, in form of a dove
Commanding not to kill, as my will, still I sent my son
To buy,... ransom, die for mistakes I have done
I cast down my son I cherish, to parish, in order to save man's worst
Tooth and fang on a cross to hang, satisfying human blood thirst
So bend your knee to a tree, how is this not worshiping an idol
An eye for an eye, a father homicidal, turning his cheek his son suicidal
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Online) - Published: June 15th, 2025 03:09
- Comment from author about the poem: A metaphor- are not our temporal fathers by definition our god being our literal creator that brings us into this world dooming us to the sacrifice of death? This poem came to me after reading Fyodor Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov and the quote "Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last. Imagine that you are doing this but that it is essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature...in order to found that edifice on its unavenged tears. Would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me. Tell the truth." and then Dan Vasc's cover of Gethsemane
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Online)
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