Poemhead

Broken Bastard

 

A broken bastard of hell bent sound

Furious screams pierce and pound

Awakened from this awkward state

To find my future in debate

A curious choir rattles and rolls

While the broken bastard collects his tolls

“Forgive no sin!” shouts the man in the pew

The cheers mark clear, my time is nearly due

“What of love and Holy God?” cries a man from the back

The mob of saints, descend and attack

The protest halted before it had begun

A deafening silence falls on everyone

The broken bastard turns to me

“Have you any words for your final plea?”

My words not chosen, they pour from within

An ever flowing stream to consciences, kin

“You can be damned, your congregation too,

You’re nothing but sinners, devils through and through.”

“You claim love but offer only fear,

You preach laws but you never adhere.”

“With you and this place I’m surely done,

Anyway Hell sounds like much more fun.”

“So cart me off in some grand affair,

To your gallows, chamber or electric chair.”

“My death will mark victory so you’ll claim,

In truth it can only bring more shame.”

“Death is no end only another path to choose,

And so there is no victor or anyone to lose.”

The broken bastard stares on unfazed

And when his gavel falls I’m carried to my grave

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