Damn those hateful speeches I had witnessed
Words of filthy blasphemy, eat my fist
Because the words that I know will choke out the despair you dare to sow
If I’m a hater of “true” righteousness
Then so f***ing be it
I don’t give a damn what they say I am
I was made to be this
You analyze too much
It’s no wonder you don’t believe
You yourself destroyed your trust
Cut out your eyes before you could see
I am a child of divine wrath
I am not the spawn of hellish trash
If that’s something you hate or fear
Then cry me a river of tears
Oh wait... you don’t have eyes
So call me a hater
Call me a hater!
It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before

I really need to let off some steam... I recently nearly had a crisis of faith. This poem is my thoughts towards the ones that caused that near-crisis, as well as my deteremined recovery from that situation and my absolute standing in life.
I am prepared for any criticism I will receive.

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