Words to the clergyman

Yours Deadly

I write to you from where your conscience lives,
from the depth of where your fear ends.
Do not deceive the people with your lips,
the pulpit will soon be your grave.
Tell them that each man shall face his pylon,
An eye for an eye, same for teeth.
Yes, it’s true. All men shall pass through this door,
At that point, God’s link is broken
What you lived is different from what you look,
so how bout you talk of his will?
Death is a cold room that keeps hearts burning,
Think its a lie, read this at night.
Open the Bible like you do her legs,
make love to God more than money,
So you don’t come here and be a stranger.

Ruddapoet [TRCP]