Makers revenge

You show me God in your work,
as if mine isn’t good enough,
then you pray to God that next time i don’t kill you.

I said look up, you peasant martyr,
of all the things I am here to be at loss with,
you do not surprise me,
take your sticks, make a cross and save me a job.

Look, with smiles or frowns and pleasures
The last time your hand was laid flat please?
The last time your reach was greater than the arm supporting you?

My weapon is blood,
I will bleed you.