Monday, May 22, 2006

Your Faith

Explain your faith to me, and I will smile.
Divulge your secrets, and expect the worst:
He who was last shall probably be first,
Or something stupid like that. It's on file,
So you could look it up. You will revile
My way of thinking, with an ill-rehearsed
Recital of the plagues with which you've cursed
My life (and those I love), without much style.

Did you expect me to collapse in fear
When I was threatened with that baseless stew
Of purgatories and all that to-do
About the prophets and the Lord's sure ear?
About your faith only one thing is clear:
Your faith is bottomless, and empty, too.