treachery with a smile, etched
upon its face
a face of red, but a heart of
stone cold black
servants of two masters, the
congregation splits
serving sexuals rituals, true back
biters
pirates in pinstripe, admired by
the many in their hour of
weakness
all ways stand, with their backs
to the sun
religious fanatics, muttering
righteousness on sacred ground
the armor of religion like foil
across a bed of nails
conscience, burning, lives held,
hostage to heaven