Revenant Religion
The ancient skies were filled with gods and gods
And gods. We sickened of them, most of them.
The priests and prophets held them up at odds
With us. The gods were one vile diadem
That crowned creation. But these gods were red
As death in slit-throat, crushed-skull scarlet. Life
Was ripped from chests on altars. Gods fed
On flesh of kids. Those gods grew fat on strife.
They’re dead now, aren’t they? Islamists are not
Convinced. The Allah whom they worship stabs
And slashes with his martyr bombers, hot
With hatred. Deities, it seems, are scabs
With blood beneath that still can murder us.
Some deities persist like poisoned pus.