Ritual abusers,

in whatever stripe they come –

Their ceremonies

You know the ones…

They’re supposed to represent life:

A life

From conception

That’s the part they show in movies –

Birth

Voila

To death

All represented neatly

In one ceremony

Cool right?

Clever even

But despicable beyond all reason

And it gets worse

You’d think, oh

At least it’s over

For the poor thing

Wrong!

That’s the very point of the rite

Not just the blood

The essence

The life energy

But the soul

A slave is born

A slave

To a slave

In a farm

To make more

The bottom

Of this depravity

I fear

We have not reached

Yet

We need to free those souls trapped

That cannot be permitted to stand

These are vile creatures

With a black hole for a soul

And no amount of hell-bound souls

Enslaved

Can feed what has no bottom