I wish to walk upon your marble floors,
I wish to walk down your golden halls.

“O’ King who has been praised like no other!
Knight me, and take of my sin: cure
Me, o’ fateful father!”
Hold me in your arms, o’ salacious mother.
The kidney that flushes out the self-induced poisons,
With the alcoholic praising his delirious spleen.

My footsteps echo upon your floors,
My eyes studying your golden halls.

What a shoddy mess:
Cheap incense to incense incredulous pilgrims.
Faked humbleness within your riches shown.
And held beneath the silken dress
Lays and lies the cranium of Golgotha
Where a lamb was sacrificed just so you can atone.

Walking away I am deaf to my footsteps,
Closing my eyes I am blind to your gold.

Come to me, don’t be shy.
The love of life isn’t the sin.
Come to me, I have no need to lie.
The lover of life isn’t the sinner.
What’s it like to fight against this God?
Fighting mist, sniffing like a crazed hunting Dog?

Walking away I no longer care to hear,
Walking away I no longer care to share my ear.
And as humble as I may be: it seems to me
The fear to live results in ‘sin’.
That those who need guidance should look within
And leave this church they grovel in.

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