They pull the lampshade over their eyes
Chants repeated in a drone
As if unerringly timed
To an unforgiving metronome,
The idol stands garlanded,
The incense wafts in the air
The intonations grow louder
The deity will take up their cares.
Reason is just a dirty beast
Faith will provide for another feast
Someday every man will belong
To a single creed, they believe.
So the jihadis terrorise
And the missionaries evangelize
It’s a numbers game between followers
Lest their gods preside over us.
The bombs have shattered another city,
Back in the prayer hall the chanting ends,
And the preacher wonders
If tomorrow he will add another sheep to the flock,
And when all nations would follow one god,
Author’s note: I do not refer to any single religious group in this poem. The poem is indicative of my view about religion: that of it being superfluous and divisive.