we dreamed of god,
and created war!
pointing,
with dismembered fingers...
prophesying,
with bellies gorged!

we kill that which
we do not understand,
that which we fear...
that which most reminds us
of something hidden deep within.

is god made of stone?
be there no remorse,
no compassion, no conviction?
even stone gods weep,
who are we trying to fool?

how many women and children sacrificed?
a blood atonement...
to whom?
we wear the robes of judges,
hiding the fact
that we're naked underneath!

even our prayers sound like
drunk ravens chattering in back alleys!
and the end we worship
is but retribution,
when time redeems our actions.
speak not of god...

Eric Cockrell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/speak-not-of-god/