God ComplexA Poem by Bryan Micheni
Seat me on a throne of hearts,
And lofty praise adorn my brow, Inflate this head to Atlas' load And forget my mortality... Angels come in many guises; Mine, more subtle than the rest And with all this exaltation Who but blind would not see halo? I am the one whose name is whispered In closed doors, on bended knee... No, not Him, the 'blessed saviour'; I'm the scourge he tried to heal... But, since my pinstripes are in fashion And pitchfork hidden for the while, You shall all learn to love me And I'll give you a good time... Am I not the true believer, For I believe naivety? Follow me unto your slaughter, All my dear, dear black sheep... I shall be your God complex, And claim to still, in eye of storm... Fear not, my damned. Just follow. See not the blood of the slaughtered, And hear not their cry. Follow. Die. © 2011 Bryan MicheniAuthor's Note
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Added on August 29, 2011Last Updated on August 29, 2011 Author
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