Belief

I am a daemon, I am inside you.

I look for simplicity,

In your chaotic complexity

I look for you but am asked to believe.

Here comes the filth,

Superstition is its king,

Flies of ignorance,

Enslave your neurons

And breed in your maladroit.

Conquered in a conquest, I find you in distress.

But am still asked to believe.

God is whom you plead for

The freedom which you surrendered,

The cell was unidirectional

And you have no exit.

The stamp of timelessness

I can see in you.

You never lived in time,

You never progressed.

Still as it can get, better described dead

You finished yourself and how do I still believe.

Filled with filth of superstition

Dismayed in your timeless cage,

God was never there to bail you out

Betrayed are you from your faith.

And this is how,

I question your belief.