The flags of religion have proudly and rampantly marched across the world
And ancient civilisations, in turn, were unceremoniously hurled
That for all the preaching of good tidings, it was the sword that spoke
To take vulnerable peoples, as their own faiths were rendered broke
And yet, those marked for death, who haplessly but firmly did trust
their own convictions, were made to bite the humiliation of heresy’s dust
How viciously callous are the books that talk of tales of saintly glory
When the ink in them reeks of the stink of blood and all things gory
Where each story was rewritten with unseemly greed eyeing the loot
And the villainy of popes who had their armies erase age-old truths
In one instance, an emperor, who in disgust, flung the Bible
He and his empire were brutally made to tremble
They were given the crucifix, and the cross of poverty and slavery
With bullets that butchered, or even through loathsome chicanery
Thus was spread, with hate and pain, the message of Christ to fit
the sanguine taste for bread and wine and the host of Pauline myth
As history beheld, all sacred inherited ways of life did altogether die
For God not only gave the West the victory, but also gave it the lie
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