Of religion, of truth...
an argument with a black tooth.
Hope with a polished pride...
in 'belief', we all confide.
The truth is a sealed secret.
Life with a nature so discreet.
The massacre of the obvious...
a feeling apparently grievous.
Our curiosity cries foul again;
we seem stuck within futility's vein.
The more we become inquisitive
the more life becomes inattentive.
Since the truth comes in versions,
I'll apparently align with my assertion...
Conscience remains my own religion...
truth over everyone's opinion.
Conscience as an advocate of innocence.
Purity armed with vivid vehemence.
I met religion on planet earth...
conscience came with my heart.