Excuse me, Sir
But what is the procedure
To peel off religion from my skin?
I find no trademarks, no barcodes.
I find no brands, no logos on me,
No palpable evidence of my faith.
Birthrights are strange,
For no mother would aspire to leave a tangible mark
Yet, you perceive an invisible permanent tattoo
As if it also traverses the placenta.
Sir, could you tell me
Which God created mountains and plains,
Which God designed cells and space,
Which God knew all the arts in the world,
And the skills to be the mightiest,
And if it’s not Zeus, Jesus or Allah,
If it’s not Krishna or Buddha,
We have a shy God, Sir.
Sir, even if it is one of them
If by any chance, God was One if not all,
It’s tyranny to command faith due to power
To ensure worship, in spite of his absence,
To instill fear, in spite of good grace,
It’s narcissistic to allow temples and tributes-
I’m not sure I want a tyrant for a God.
You seem to know him well, Sir
You seem to worship him and believe,
He has not told me Sir, but I’m sure you’d know
How do I peel off religion from my skin?