"I want naught to do,
With this"
I said to you,
As I wandered away that day,
Slowly treading,
Deeply dreading
The retribution
I had sought,
The streaming fire,
The event horizon,
The dreadful prison
I had wrought.

I trudged away,
Soft and alone,
Cold as stone,
White as bone,
Broken and frozen
Away from the throne.

I don't want your kings,
I'd rather die,
I'd rather lie
Alone and free,
Marooned at sea,
Or lost, forgotten,
Unruled, unfooled,
Excused from your
God awful lie.

Damn your king,
Damn your laws,
Damn your fallacies,
Damn your gods,
Damn your idiocies,
Damn you all,
I'll cut your throats
And watch you fall,
Because all you have
Is what you took,
A stupid idol,
And a stupid book,
There'll be no salvation,
No streets paved with gold,
No place to welcome you
When you are dead and cold.

There is no god.
There is no forever,
Just the event horizon
On the brink of death.
There is no Jesus,
There is no soul,
Just what you've accomplished
Before your gasping last breath.