Hey Hannibal, Frodo, Jekyll and Hyde,

I completely believe; Hollywood never lied.

I've not read the book, but I saw you on screen.

So I repented my sins, and I'm pure. I'm clean.

Hey Mr. Braveheart, Mr. Forever Young,

look what you've started. Look what you've done.

Didn't bring me to tears as I ground my nails on my chair.

Each one of us has our own cross to bear.

I watched B-movie horror so I could compare,

and cared no more for you than what I saw there.

I watched two men die, heard two men's moans,

but one was Jesus Christ, the other just Joe Jones

I went to your church and I stared at your cross.

I had no epiphany, felt no sense of loss.

I clasped my hands, I closed my eyes.

And I felt nothing. It's no surprise.

I felt uncomfortable as I sat in the pew.

All eyes on me, because I don't love you.

I mouthed the words to the songs of praise.

And on your face, I fixed my gaze.

I waited for the fear I'd feel in your name.

I waited for the change, but it never came.

And when I left that church, I felt relieved:

A hundred percent certain I didn't believe.

A mother watched her daughter raped and choked

then faced the same fate. My faith's revoked.

If suffering makes truth, makes you holy and right

then that woman became a deity that night.

Martyrdom is futile when you want people to follow.

That's not selfless; it's manipulative and hollow.

Your dry lips speak lies; you claim to save,

yet you brought so many to their graves.

I can't help what I feel, I believe is it true.

And the truth is I feel nothing for you.

Maybe I'm cold-hearted, maybe I'm stone,

or maybe this confirms what I've always known.