The Problem With Truth

by Book Malester (Aries) - Not entered

I am part of nothing,
I am death of Man.
Some may call me Jesus Christ.
Some will call me Pan.
Religion breeds self-hatred,
The gods create self-need.
There is no simple, final way out.
Trust me I can see
Take me as your lover,
Take me as your man.
Take me as your deadly poison.
Touch me, if you can

Reason for writing:

    Nobody seems to except the truth. We either bend it to say what we want, or we ignore it.    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1998-01-21 22:27:19
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:39:56
Poem ID: 48594

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