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The devout gather

To hear their master talk

Incite disaster

The abattoir's gala

A waltzing putrid carcass rots

Newsworthy blood-red carpet for whores

A mass so self-assuring

Individuals worth nothing

Pick up the pace – stride, race!

Stampede or die!

Unsubmissive fields

Can't help but be stepped on

Accept the dogma, learn the faith

Give up the whole just like the tithe

For all measures of self-worth

You are empty

Homogenous canvas set ablaze

Smothered ashen skies

You are not the chosen ones

Nor the standard

By which all life must abide

Or cease to be for christ

With worn-out knees

You insist on pleas

For a strongman to come and take

Your ass, your mind, your fucking fate away

You pray so devoutly

Orgasmic twitches, cannibalistic

You speak in tongues

Devoid of meaning, yet plattered

On a high horse

For all to see your true appeal

Dick in hand