Seeing the World Through the Word
The Religion of Choice
In the hearts of many, a form of worship formed,
Centered around a deity from which a religion was born.
A deity whose servants sacrifice their all,
Whenever their god cries to them, whenever they hear her call.
She is a god of many lusts, many sacraments she requires.
Many offerings she gorges upon to satisfy her desires.
Hidden deep within her servants she finds her abode –
In the shadows, in the corners, in the darkness, in the cold.
She liberates her servants revealing to them her truth
Covering their eyes with deceit, fighting conscience nail and tooth.
“It’s ok to have your way” – she teaches no restraint.
Morality – ethics – values – she sees as a taint
Upon a mind and heart she yearns to warp to her will
“Do as I say, let me have my way – my will is now your will.”
Until mind and heart surrender virtue, and the servant yields
Tearing down innate restraint – making space – on which she builds
Temples, altars, hallowed places for this is her god’s will.
And she worships.
Bowing to her own ego, oblation unto self
Her god is her person; she’ll yield to no one else.
Obedient to her cry she follows her commands
And perceives demands of moral law as old-fashioned laws of man.
Sensual – Willful – Boundless – Free
Are the words that saturate her god’s decree.
“I do the thing that pleases me, In worship of my deity.”
Seeking pleasure without duress
Her carnal lusts she won’t arrest.
And conceives within a human life,
That her god demands as a sacrifice.
The natural affection, she should now feel
Her god supplanted with something surreal,
To nurture her yearnings, desires and goals,
Love meant for another, toward her deity flows.
…Toward her deity flows.
To give of herself for someone else – would be heresy.
To declare a love for that within – is pure blasphemy.
To make a claim, to give a name, would border – on idolatry
So the partial maker of this nameless thing – makes a bold decree,
Bow – sacrifice – that human life – unto me.
So she worships. Diligently.
For her religion calls for a sacrifice,
The sacrifice of that unborn life.
And being a servant faithful and true
She does what all good disciples would do.
And the temple she built to honor herself
She now enters so as to hear no one else.
As deep within, she rehearses her creed,
“My body, my choice, my sacrifice.” – indeed.
Upon hallowed ground she now treads
Unbelievers – disallowed – their Life message – dead
To her ears, to her heart, to her soul, to her mind
In the dark shadows, the cold corners – she and her deity – are intertwined.
She approaches the altar and bows down to self
In worship of ego, ignoring all else
That ever she felt, ever been taught, ever heard,
Ever accepted –she now rejects it – she hears just a word,
Choice – A creed.
An invocation – incantation – A chant – A praise – At her altar the servant prays –
In her worship she beseeches her priest
The mediator who will offer release.
She brings her sacrifice to him
The ritual will now begin.
Sacrilege –sacrifice- sacrifice of an unborn life,
Through her eyes – the cry of Life – is the way of life – that’s the sacrifice
Of one’s self – of one’s will – of one’s freedom- one’s deity
The deity’s selfish decree – this religion’s Doctrine of Me.
Prostrate she lays before her presbyter
He applies the tools of their worship to her.
She surrenders herself to offer her gift
as the tools of their service within her shift and sift
The offering – her sacrifice – that bloodied gift – that human life.
She surrendered once to conceive, she surrenders now to relieve –
– To her priest she resigns her burden; to satisfy her master’s yearning.
For a sacrifice – a human life, sacrilege- sacrifice.
The sacrifice, that bloodied gift, that sacrilege –that human life.
That human life, with human legs, human hands and human eyes,
from the dark shadows, from the cold corners, “Mommy why?” vehemently cries.
This apparition of the sacrifice, refuses to rest, to exit this life –
Tethered here by the servants own soul, despite the deity’s demands to let go,
The disciple of Choice, though forcibly told,
Finds it impossible to relinquish her hold.
In humbled reply, trying to rationalize,
because she so firmly – believed the deity’s lies,
This disciple of Choice, begins to cry,
and reluctantly confides, “It was for me you died.”
Her very soul cries when she searches the eyes,
of the ones whose life she gave in service to lies.
She didn’t realize, herself she’d despise, once she complied, to this gospel of lies.
“Why?” She cries did she perpetuate a cause,
advocate ones rights – give a life in service to laws.
Law’s written as the deity’s creed, A doctrine dedicated to selfish greed.
Calling for a sacrifice – sacrilege – sacrifice of a human life.
Calling for sacrilege –a sacrifice – desecration of a human life.
Calling for selfishness, selfish pride, sensuality and human sacrifice.
Inhuman sacrifice – of her own life to the deity’s doctrine of lies.
Service to self – Doctrine of Me –
an altar to which she bowed to serve her own greed.
All proven as false, proven as lies,
when she heard the cry, “Mommy why?”
A heretic, she is now pleased to be,
For of the lie’s she is finally free,
Denouncing vehemently the deceptions of the creed
“My body, my choice, my sacrifice.” – indeed.
For she has been released from the vice
And no longer believes in human sacrifice.
by Elder Jason L Ward