A Man in Rag Mopes..

He never hires his heirs,
Those aides with ideas,
who use words as sword,
to lure and then rule.

Like the leper who repel,
Runts at all turns,
Risen by a siren,men fight,
led by saints with stains.

But He tires of their rites,
& spit on those pits called religion,
Saying 'strap the parts together,
or leave the ache to each'

But the hearts on earths,
stay rife with fire,
The heat of hate rises,
As Dogs worship Gods.