I have never once pretended to be godly
if nothing else I understand the human need of divinity
I wonder now and then, at my obsession with truth
to sacrifice the ability to accept faith blindly
the saintly sit upon a rotting perch
their play at damage control
smacks of survival tactics
cold comfort, that they now confesses to be evil
I show you my humble flame
to serve as a beacon on this dark night
join me at the feast of things true
liberate your mind
I crack along the edges of my blistered soul
cracks that allow the light to show through, to comfort me
