You act like a saint
And you are admired by the gods
You talk like a priest
And you are kissed on your feet by the prophets

But I see the cracks in your holy ground
And I read between the lines of your prayers
What a miracle it is
That you’re that good at playing the angel
But I found the paint you used
To cover the walls of hell to make it look like heaven

Go home, back to the abyss
Enchant those fake wings
Walk right into the flames
And let me know what to do with the embers

My world was made without light
And still, you manage to make it darker
Like only a son of destruction ever could
But obscurity is my friend
So turn the day into night all you want
I’m not scared of your haunting shadows

I know you win all your contests, here and overseas
And I’m aware that you can ruin me in many languages
But what you can’t seem to figure out
Is that you don’t have to drown me in excerpts of proof

So go home, back to Paradise Earth
Your work here is done
My house is burnt down
And the ashes infected my wounds

People here have been deaf for ages
So I can call you what I want
You and your sign language
Will always know better

Never will I buy your lies
When they bury you in cash
And never will I bow down
When they chant your name

So go home, back to the falling stars
I know what to wish when I see one next time.

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This article was written by @writingaboutyou on the We Heart It Writers Team.