His Majesty's Epiphany

Worship is not Love
Fear is here
We dress in
Eat out
Drape ourselves with false hoods
Feast on lies

What else could we do?
No one taught us how to breathe.

Chapter VI

He'd built many species of mother
Spoke through us his vision of the most high
But found
We could not wrap our mouths around it

Gave us dreams of being tucked in at night
Only to find us insomniacs

This world a dream of his
And a failure

We took liberties with the script
Sacred Feminine
Raped and fallen from glory

Crucified to railroad tracks
Lynched with dreaded hair
Tortured for feeling something
Soft and wet
Clutching to herself

His Majesty clawed with blunt fingers
Shredding archetypes

Caused torrential rain
Fanned spontaneous flames
Shook us like the snow globe he needed us to be

Turned our libraries to sand and muck,
But we were destined to plagiarize ourselves.