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