The Zealot

Religion had made some men crazy

While it made the bulk of men sane.

The same man religion made crazy

The atheist man had been made the same.


Some men cannot see a moral law.

They cannot see, and lay traps and fall

Into the dark spiritual abyss

Of murders, rapists and blasphemers amiss.


It makes it hard for me to say

That all men are like it

And would go astray.


Something in a man needs God.

And I don’t know if that’s the evidence for it

But it seems more likely a lot.


One man cries for revolution

And uses religion to tally the cries…

Another man steeps himself with faeries

And pagan peace descries,

The bloody mess of men falling upon his bunk.


It can make a heart hallow

To see religious men do things so uncouth.

Seventeen days of revolution

Can completely shatter the innocence of youth.


If I can say that I fight my wars in prose…

When a violent thought meanders

Men die in verse and poesy.

So knowing battle I might say

That war bands are not so gay…

Victuals of a man’s inner regrets

As he watches men in the street corners beget

Violence upon violence

Stone upon stone

Blood upon blood.

I need not tell the world that I am not he…

Yes… sundry is the word I use for a rebellious entity

Who crept in the dark with mass graves beneath.

He who would cauter revolution

To secretly find the prize.

Government, children, and the whole nation rise

To his absolute governing hand.

Revolution does nothing whence there are no values which to stand.



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