Blind Faith

Lips utter sacred words,

Like the chirping of a morning bird,

Yet their postulations plan filthy game,

They hide it in their attire what a shame,

Preaching in the name of god,

Claiming themselves as close as his incarnation,

Chanting out verses in exclamation,

In the turnout of a monk,

A deadly termite is sunk,

Who feeds over humanity,

And over whom people tend to lose their sanity,

But what they say is true,

This world is good only to a few,

The rest shall struggle,

To fight ,and satiate the hunger till night,

But are they themselves striving,

Because it's a whole community they are driving,

Who fight over holy tome,

Without reading one in their home,

They make us fool,

Use us as a tool,

To achieve what they aspire,

Making it terrible for others to respire.