It’s complicated

They hide stuff so we can’t predict what’s to come.
Them.
They show stuff so we can accept what’s to come.
Them

But different.

Everything has been scorched by their hand.
There is nothing clean.
Religion is the centerpiece.
Their crowning glory.
Deceive us all.

What do I believe in?
It’s complicated.
Right here
Right now
Nothing.

All baggage lumped upon me by man has been discarded.
I travel light
I carry no burden.

A few wannabes cling on for dear life.
But wind will soon sort them out.

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