Nothing Else

If you would pray to knowingly false gods
I feel you would pray to anything,
Not that you've been of sound mind these days.
Now let us join hands and become martyrs
To Amish gods and wandering prostitutes.
If they would but show us the path to enlightenment
We could thank them with our blood sacrifice, our keen oblation.
Don't cringe; it's not as though we've used our time wisely so far,
Squirming around like blind lizards in search of shadows,
As though they were our only sustenance,
Thoughtless b*****d children of nature that we are!
But then there are cathedrals;
Surely that means we must worship something.
Cruel Fate!
We are nowhere near cultured civilization.
In this land of bleached cornstalks and blistering suns
Even the harshest desert would prove more picturesque
Than this sea of bland rectangles with tears of shame for mortar.
If we can't worship the old gods then let us have love,
But not your cloy love of maudlin inertia;
We must have cruel barbarian love!
The kind that inspires human sacrifice and senseless butchering.
Blame the sun!
It's sunk my head with savage light.
And now I see a thousand war ships on the horizon
Coming for that golden haired vixen,
That gem of ancient Greece.
Would that the sea would swallow them all;
All must perish!
But behold the beauty of the old land,
The fertile land strewn with water weathered rocks of the Sphinx,
Where castles pierce the sky and create new stars.
Before we go there we will turn our black bread
Into a noble feast fit for gods of the Golden Age.
Dream with me, my comrades;
For there is nothing else for us!