The tragic conquest over mortality
Pagans call our system the religion of apes
So we signed up, as a mission of faith, wisdom and grace
To do sanctimonious raids on the village these animals graze
I Hoenheim, did my duty by impaling their hearts with imperial stakes
Blocking all sympathy by reminding myself of their egotistical reign
In war, one must see their enemies’ suffering in a metaphorical way
After all, we swore knighthood over everything in this material plane.
The chosen ones, with battle gear in the guise of biblical saints
Yet, it was smeared in the blood of the victims we slayed
Holy military campaigns that feudalism had to make
To purge out the deficiencies that triggered our pain
Apotheosis became a bewitchment we gained
The blood of Christ ran down our innocent face
Our interpretation of the lord became an abysmal plague,
A manifestation of mental constructs that rippled in our veins.
Pray for our sake, for only the abyss awaits, oblivion’s cave
The papacy promise of eternity afflicted and conflicted our brains
Oh, the shame! Of being ordained in a baptism of flames
Mind and body separating in a schism of change. Prisoners of fate
That realized too late the Byzantine Empire was the prison that had Jesus enslaved.
We were insurmountably foolish to think any chivalry was attained
In participating in this holy touted journey, the Christian Crusades.
As the Middle Ages waned, so did the mystique of our mystical way.
The Vatican real aim was to create a ripe alchemical opportunity
To acquire an ethereal jewelry with unequivocal purity
One of a kind power that secures their spiritual immunity
A legendary stone that man sought in prototypal lunacy
But, it only could be spawned at the cost of physical mutiny,
Manipulated to do their bidding, we the crusaders had our organs ruined
We massacred countless of other humans
All for a corpus we concluded as the moral solution.
We were promised eternal life, but not in the form of mutants
The guiding material of our righteous swords was putrid
I doubt that at any junction was the lord looking,
If nothing more, our exploits are his worldly amusement.
Ergot contaminants made our daily rye bread have crippling effects,
Poisonous fungal alkaloids with no hallucinogenic or medicinal effect
Plenary indulgences took us into the lands of sinners and dead
But, we didn’t die, we became the walking undead, Solomon’s pets
Rotting in the flesh, godliness left, but we still carry in our hearts god’s spiritus.
Cursed to walk this land forever looking for the Saracen Saladin serpent’s head
But long ago, did our adversary reach the title of emeritus.
What merit is there in living now? For zombified, I can’t perish yet.
The mysteriousness of Constantinople was eluded to be its sterile crest,
Where once peace is secured never will there be a perilous end.
The All decreed us brethren, and we still had war with them
But in end of it all, the Vicar of Christ did not win any immortality,
He wasn’t deemed worthy to be bestowed global abbacy.
We the bearers of the sins were, but as totality would have it,
We look like a universal tragedy. I should have never served the royal family!
The cross depiction we wore did not have Yeshua, but a plutocrat crucified
Aristocrat suicide, for the sake of neutralizing the commoner’s impure nucleotides
Eugenic transmutation that does not have any epigenetic connotation
I know all too well, what we take at face value is but senseless computation.
As they are… life, death, and the beyond have no esoteric annotation.
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