Frenzied Faith

They stumble around with their
living, breathing contradictions,
walking, talking benedictions.
They call upon ancient “words of wisdom”,
Without a thought to call their own,
Acting as a bovine entourage of drones.
They spout that tired rhetoric, “All sinners go to hell.”
And I think if they won’t be there,
That’s where I’d prefer to dwell.
They sermonize repentance,
While condemning all their peers,
I can’t help but laugh at their moronic fears.
Zealous peons to their master,
Blundering ‘round as they proclaim,
That we should all succumb and live our lives the same.