fantasy roles, illusions of eloquence,
rites of initiation to empty
precepts fill your heart.
flames dance in your eyes,
desire, burning to infect your
mission with.
love, life, righteousness of a fractal
perception, as time will tell.
time is of essence, and patience
is no virtue if it is spent
in patience of the lord.
to lift a finger is to enact
a deed more physical than any
in this employment of -his- faculty.
clerics bathe in a tithing pool
to cleanse themselves of sin, reflect
themselves in cast iron symbols
to earn their wings.
donned with white robes, the sermon
is read from that thick, leafy ticket
bound with gold engraving, king james
on the spine.
trip ticket to heaven, a waste of time
to all but the divine.
when i came of age,
i was all but blind.