Too Many Things Are Done

After all the wisdom of our ages
The same souls rise
From silted dust to smirk,
Arms folded across guns,
Hands blood-red in the light…

Hands…

…behind masks of piety
…fashion death's-heads…
…clutch half-read holy scripture…

All the sad apostles. the unheard prophets,
Are leaving heaven, ghosts now,
Leaving in their shame.

…too many things are done in the name of God…

…who puts His face away.
His radiance finally dimmed…

…now His word blasphemes itself…

Every named deity, from every faith in turn,
All Gods and prophets as one,
Yaweh, Allah, Buddha, Krishna, Muhammad, Issa,
So many, weeping…

…that the paths of righteousness have come to this…

…the bleeding feet of the pious, now a red river
Of wounds and cuts, the holy path
Strewn with the decapitated and the stoned.
To shed the blood of unclaimed sinners
Is no celebration of divinity or right.
It is dereliction, the blemish of souls none would save.

And the deluded protectors of these holy names,
How could they presume to understand
The incandescent will of God
To see any more than human frailty,
Sightless folly, in their meagre epiphanies?

…not in Our names; We did not teach you this…

Who are the fools and who the restless cynics
So filled with bile and hate
They find God and crucify Him
With this godless venom?

Who are the deluded? Who feeds the delusion?
Who are the old men who put death in the hands of children
Who promise an eternity of bliss,
Sly absolution for sin and falsehood?

Corruption spills like the blood it draws
In a tide of indelible deceit.
Lies and excuses drown all understanding.

We drum our heels upon the earth
While the Gods choke back Their horror,
Seeing us thunder so in our faithless doubt.

We owe a penance to Them all
For unbearable hubris
As the tears run into Their beards
As They rock in shock and anger
Looking down at our petty world
In despair.

 © BH 2015

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This began in February, when I thought about it as a time to purge the worst of the year before. 

It descended into a reflection on these things. Principally the bloodletting and the self-justified crusades we seem to go off on. Some are violent, others are just hateful and full of sanctimonious vitriol.

I felt, all the authorities we quote, all the wise forebears, the gods and prophets, are spinning in the ground as we carry out so much badness in their names. We're right scream the fanatics, so we can destroy. We're right say the stuffed shirts so we can carp and  bleat then crush you from the great height of our moral summit.

Pah, I said. The Gods are gobsmacked and have already foresaken you. The moral high ground is a precipice. Learn some respect. Be humble. Behave!

Nuff said. Go on, read By Ice Purified (the other half of this). Read 'em and weep!