pulling for a rapture

a dubious eschatology,
taught by mum's and dad's,
tales of a king's watchful eye,
to keep the children,
from eating cookies before supper,
from having dirty thoughts,
from playing hooky,

injections of fear and self-loathing,
cultist fables of a sudden disappearance,
loved ones gone forever in a moment,
others left to die,
should you choose to not believe,

in a tyrant in the sky,

created by weak men,
angry at their fathers,
who yet longed for their love,
no favour from the one on earth,
so they'll make a new one above,

complexes stacked on top of complexes,
landfills of guilt and resentment,
chicken wire of hateful judgement,
bounded and rusty,
years of seclusion and fractured friendships,
have built an impenetrable immunity to truth,
intelligence, education, creativity and authenticity,

a longing,
a hope,
a way out,
from a cruel world,
the same one created...
for you?
by Him?

I'm sorry I'm confused by your fervent proselytizing,

while you bemoan my casual dress and duress

you shout words of sin and redemption,

but I only hear form and emptiness.