Upon the Throne of Piety

For centuries I have seen the power of man

Rise and fall, all in the name of their God.

Though they stand on clay feet I will always remain.

Built upon the ashes of traitors and saints,

High and resplendent; A monument baptized

By the blood of man in the name of Christ.

My bowels are filled with the malodorous stench

Of incense and decay.  The angels’ mellifluous voices

Fill my cavernous lungs with the lamentations of their martyred king.

My ears fill with insidious lies that flock

Under the guise of a holi(nest)

My domed face points to the sky like a swollen breast

Towering above the sordid streets I smell

The stink of Sodom cling to the city

Like a harlot to her Priapus.

The sinners writhe in their shame like worms

Uprooted from the warmth of the earth.

As they open their ugly mouths eagerly

Awaiting to taste the milk of absolution.

They ask God to forgive their transgressions

And I smell the fear that slithers down their brows

Hoping to quench the horrid flames that lick their blistered feet.

Seated upon a gilded throne of piety

I hear God’s pitiless laughter resound.

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