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The Death of God

God is dead I say
He died not with a bang
He was slain in dismay
And his body did Hang

His funeral procession
Never did happen
The Priests were too pressed
to make sure they, dressed
Did not have the love juices,
stains, from children muses.

His Son could not attend
He was turned into a fish
Something for Darwinists to offend
He could not get his dying wish
To see his Father at peace
And let his soul release

The Paul Bearers were not seen
They were lynched for being
Brown as He made them,
Killed by black white men
Who burned a black cross
In mockery of their loss

Not a single mourner came
Nine million of them slain
The camps they passed
where they were gassed
Falsely in His name
And He felt their pain

As His Body was raped
Not a single mouth gaped
Because they were Protesting
Gays who found His Healing
And they were beaten down
Just like the Red and Brown

His face was torn apart
By people questioning their part
In a dead church corrupt
As their wealth upped
The price of His Soul
And made money His Goal

Only one had witnessed
What had dreadfully passed
A babe, whom was Born
On the streets in a slum
And his soul was torn
To see a World so glum
Where his miracle of birth
Had shown him a broken earth
Where his God was dead
And not a tear was shed

~Justin Curtiss