You speak as if
The words said belong to me
as if I didn't borrow from you to lacerate
contradict and set alight

But if you'd rather I speak as if the blood belongs to words
Then I'd have to say-

If something is alive, refusing to stay abstract,
I'm sure having trouble finding it in your last tract.
Where amoung that indulgent imagery, lacking impact,
Did you state a fact or substantially detract,
From living a life devoted; Bloodsworn backed?
So clean up all that rhetorical bric-a-brac
Just throw it in the backpack;
And hike on back to your ticky-tack circus act.

Cuz if you found it funny, you'd actually tell a joke.
If you found it curious, you'd shrug off ignorance's yoke.

And come earnest to accumulated expertise,
Dwelt on sermons and detail crafted histories.
My Faith isn't reliant on load-bearing mysteries,
Not figurative seas nore Great Oak Trees,
And certainly no fickle "freedom" flavored shifting breeze.

And yet you still wonder why we crave the taste of fire,
From your last few verses your quill doesn't get it either.
But if this life of mediocrity you e'r tire; calmly approach the pyre,
And simply enquire how a humble defier might follow that calling higher.

You may perspire in the heat but it'll purify you.
You may shrink from the Light but it'll illuminate the truth.

Remember;
She teaches none are beyond redemption,
But He teaches the duty of swift excision.
So if you're set on this life of heretical reverie,
Get ready to regret every moment left in your eternity.

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Sarapin, in the year 1003 AF.