The Inquisition ( Archived) (5)

The corridors are now silent,
The torches flaming, violent,
The dungeon stretches into
The dim confines of Hell,
A mundane version, maybe,
But the victims cannot tell.

Confess, the Inquisitors chide,
A deadly sin is your pride.
Admit that God condones this
Cruelty for the sake of power,
Your heresy has its final hour.

Gnostics, gypsies, and Muslims fall
Before the bloody Papal scourge’s pall,
Witchcraft an expedient accusation,
For those who threaten matriculation
Into enlightened knowledge of God,
Doomed to suffer ignorance’s prod.
Nolo contendere, six hundred years too late,
I wonder if Galilei felt the fear and hate,
To the degree that the Gnostics endure?
House arrest isn’t an Iron Maiden, sure,
But to be publicly humiliated, si moveo,
Yes, Earth, it moves, dear dead Galileo.

No thanks to religion,
We know this now.
Religion the means by
Which rich men plow
The poor into topsoil
To grow another crop,
The blood of un-named
Martyrs, sin in ever drop.
Could they do this if they
Really believed in God?
Spoil the children
By sparing the rod.
Killing for profit
In the name of God.

You've got the blues again

Nope, I've got the greens and the oranges...you can have all my blue M&M's if you want...

Naaa, I 'll move on