sometimes i am so easily decieved

I believe what i wish to be true

and when the fantasies of my infancy are ripped from my grasp

I weep at the feet of misbeliefs past

for the comfort of lies

are infinitely more comfortable

then the stark unfeeling truth

yet in my own misery

there is some strange relief

in realizing that the joys promised by a swindling fool

are nothing more than the triumphs of an archaic time

death is not something to be feared

my body will one day rott and distort

but to decay amongst the glory of life

holds meaning so profound

compared to a salvation spent 

in a holy prison

so perhaps I trust those

who were arbiters of truth

but i have begun to pick at the cracks in their dogma

and unearthed a purpose

which nothing can destroy

yes i was mislead

but the jubilation of discovering

to regain a sense of reality after years spent

wasting in the filth of deciet

is incomparable 

to the fire and brimstone fear

used to chain me to some ancient text

Oh dear God

I have deserted you

but my prayers wasted on your unsympathetic, cruel, malovent mercy

are reminders of a time

I have triumphed over

self righteous and myopic fools once urged me

to see your unparalelled love

but i have only seen your cruelty

after removing these rose colored glasses

my vision is restored