BRIBE THE BIBLE'S BRIDE

I

Sullied mist onto our visages to shroud

The poor old man whom they sang proud:

Relieve the scourge! Upstand our crowd!

To the morgue! Haven't they heard us loud?

Men often machines, depleted of working, indeed.

Last tolerable ones to parole others' creed,

First to embrace the religious' chambers breed

Clinging at any promise they had forbid.

To that poor old man death was the price,

Much more valuable since gentle's vice,

In church, now, yields to them almost twice,

Selling sweated hopes to human-headed mice.

II

After demising of lust they ne'er appease,

The misled priests persuaded us to seize

Each demeanor of villainy their lords please,

But unto our folk in afterlife utterly we cease.

It doesn't matter whether youngster nor old,

Blasphemies only glorify what they untold.

Settled the prize by which we all were sold,

What God's adviser says is turned into gold.

Such miserable thoughts thereby poses a threat

Scarcely those of mine whose evening has met,

Mesmerizing themselves on minutiae of fret.

Henceforth, their deeds of rack we lest not forget!

Yossuf Miligran Almalik - Bribe The Bible's Bride.