Someone I know said something like this to me, so I made it a poem. If you're a deeply religious person, please don't take offense from any of this. Enjoy :)


Martyr

if there is a god and he

sends me to hell when i

die because i never believed

in him i wont feel any

remorse.


i cant.


i know that what i

think

what i feel is right

therefore i cant feel

regret when being condemned.


it is right to me and

that is all i can be

sure of so i will be

comfortable with

being sure of it.


whatever happens will happen

completely outside of my control

im not afraid of death


im not afraid of your god

who will throw me to the flames

for assuming hes just a

name.


a pronoun.


i dont want to believe

in that kind of god anyway

he does horrible

things if hes real

painful.


everything i do is a sin

to that merciful god of

yours i dont even comprehend

my own purpose with this

gracious god of yours looming

over my mind

thats why

i refuse to let him.


he tells me life ends

in the blink of an eye

but wont let me live how

my heart leads me.


you sit and you cry

because of your inner turmoil

the conflict between your faith

and your humanity.


you cry because it makes

no sense you try to make

sense of it sense of your

god but the tears of

lost martyrdom continue.


you dont want to be

a martyr.


but you try to be anyway.


you kiss me and you cry

claiming its forbidden

impure and adulterous


then you cry more because

its so beautiful and your

heart is laughing.


does god not control that quivering

heart?


he lets you fall in love

with me but in his all too

human rules he says you

cannot you will not

be with me.


he gives you the urge to

touch me and whisper to

me as an obstacle

a useless sufferable trial

for you to overcome.


even though he makes it

feel right.


sacrificing me for your faith

makes you nothing less than

a martyr.


he made you a martyr

defeated the purpose of

you being that holy martyr

crying such holy tears.


your god is quite the

hypocrite quite the sadist

who thrives on the pain

the blood the tears of his

servants.


you argue with me and

you are scared for me

worried for my damned soul

upset that god has let you

love me.


I stand as I have with

no remorse. Should I walk

through those flames, I will do

it smirking upwards.


laughing about the fact that

god wouldnt let me believe

in him.