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central leadership is watching    
they want to keep me silent    
     
as i hide between    
the limbs of the mad    
trembling among the afflicted    
nuns and priests falling to      
their knees on broken glass    
foaming at the mouth with    
epileptic spume as they chant      
in a foreign language to their god    
believing he hears--- mass hysteria.    
their savior,    
a purely psychological phenomenon    
the bell of the church pierces my    
ear drums making them bleed    
as the sheep fight for their turn    
to pull on gods heart string    
ringing the bell    
in hopes of avoiding hell    
the carnival begins    
crucify me with their religion    
splitting me open,my body    
and spirit to humble me    
so i may repent,and find redemption    
washing my doubting eyes      
with the blood of jesus      
feels an awful lot like my own blood   
running down my cheek    
pooling in the street    
wiping away the tears,convulsing
incoherent ramblings of the mad    
a sign of being filled with the holy-spirit    
... no !    
i am filled only with the sensation    
of being a ingrate.