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You mark me an idolater

Heathen, pagan, fetishist

You don’t see a human being

But a barbaric Antichrist

Safe inside your ivory tower

Of holiness and intolerance

Trapped inside a maze of lies

Such pathetic arrogance

What makes your god the only god and mine revolting pagan idols?

What makes your altar a sacred place and mine a scene of horrible rites?

You eat your god you cannibal so why don’t you look at yourself

Your god a carpenter nailed to wood if that’s not an idol then what is?

You don’t really believe your lies, deep down human you are still

You need your holy fantasy but strength not from within brings chains

You are created in the image of your god but do you think that he grows old?

You claim you talk to your god but do you think the almighty listens?

My gods are so different

They are in my blood

They do not enslave me

Like your tyrant god

My gods are companions

On the solitary path called life

They come when I call

Support me in my strife

I hail to them in my glory

Entrust them with my pain

Call them graven images

Your proselytism is in vain