Chews the fat with his creator over breakfast
In the sunlight though when he says grace, when he says grace
He feels enveloped like a shadow.
There are evenings when this decimated world of movement
Colour, Form is thing and getting thinner
When lights are dim and getting dimmer
(When nights are grim and getting grimmer)
As they barter their boulders
And martyr their soldiers
Teach a man to tear her fucking head from her god-damn shoulders.
Held into the sun by the threads of her hair as they impart
A secret hatred from their fathers to their heirs.
Suppressed and unaddressed the simple fact remains unspoken
In a silence left unbroken, on a bed bound and gagged with culture
Language myth and law:
"Our goddess gave birth to your god from a wounded womb where her
Flesh is scarred and raw, our goddess gave birth to your god"