(Sunism does not endorse this poem)
Pattern of stars and angels dominate the vault.
The flesh is jammed into the bottom.
The sun and the cross form the belly button of the universe.
It recycles as star dust.
We are star dust.
The stars are too.
Flesh breaths, stars ignite and blaze.
Christians invented the devil.
The virtue of suffering.
I need to stop suffering,
Stand my ground,
Stop feeling condemned by my mother.
She represents righteousness.
What I do in her eyes is wrong.
Her confidence is power.
She believes she has done no wrong.
Attending church regularly,
she sits and judges at the pinnacle of wealth.
She alone is wrapped in blue royal cloth,
her hair covered, so asexual.
The smug smile hides a savage voice, a manipulative tone.
The hand erect shining its epiphany
But it destroys me.
by Red Sunset