Stomach of pleasures

A time cultivating poverty

of the spirit,

the flesh hungers for more that is of temporary fulfillment,

filling the stomach of pleasures made from old stone.

Religions of the wind,

the dead of spirit rise to claim life

gasping from artificial breath,

spewing amens from dead bowels,

the withered hand has fallen

to unjust knees,

cultivating death to the just and life to the unjustly.

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