Pomme De Terror

You're looking down upon us
With loathing and indifference
from ancient rotting spires
The plebians, misguided, and a tithe our only value

You were not contented by a life with questions answered,
through reason and empirical dissection of the inquest.
Decree a purge of what your narrowed dogma calls antipathy,
as if you define sin, you're justified to cast the stones!

How much more hatred and blood can we spill,
in the name of these fictions, we're swallowing whole
Buried our visions, in spite of free will.
Take a bite of this apple and open your eyes!