Fracture the skull of the divine, the holy one, and puncture the bodies of its followers.
Yes, fracture the skull of the holy one, who watches his followers legalize demise, demonize, and terrorize our communities.
“But how dare I? How dare I? How dare I speak up?” they say. How dare I, how dare the marginalized exist?
I ask Oh divine, do you, do you have a mind?
Do your values, morals, and ethics stick like honey, or are they bought with power and white man’s money?
Do you believe in love, in the importance of human existence?
Please tell me, where and how do we fit in? How do we know you are not on the side of men? Or take pleasure in our suffering?
Do these thoughts flow through your consciousness? Do they make you angry? Do they make you afraid?
Do you feel for the ones who have to hide every day? Or does your pride override human existence?
In your eyes, the destruction of earth and humankind is justified, ah yes to prove that the Devil is a lie?
To prove that others’ existence is holy to your standards, holy enough to live and survive? You’ve said it yourself, Divine, everyone like me is a sinner, a degenerate, a groomer, an illness that filtrates a child’s mind.
So tell me holy one, tell me oh divine, is the devil an enemy, a god of sodomy, the father of sin?
Is he the originator of the Lie?
Is he a past lover, a false God you despise, or is he a reflection of his creator? Yes, divine, or should I say the true Devil hiding in plain sight?
Cause, our lives are at stake, you are the most powerful you say. Where’s the justice? Where’s your kindness?
I know where I stand and you’ve sown your seed.
I will not surrender or get on my knees, I will not pray to the High Sovereignty.
Cause I will not believe until the Divine stops cowering and intervenes.
So if you may, if you please I will live eternally to fracture and puncture those legalize demise and terrorize our communities because I dare, I dare to speak.
– Malija
(please ignore my old name on other poems it’s no longer mine 🙂
Poetry