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How vaguely we eschew complicity with You, it's always run-arounds, excuses and words we bind to nooses just to sullenly let swing the best of arbitrary things, like, do we care about the poor? Oh yes, but we support the king.
And we're starving for the slaughter. A man gives up his daughter and the walls that keep us safe aren't saving anyone. Didn't You say to risk everything?
And we're left dieting for more and then we're burning on the tor that flanks an emperor's affair. We've hardly sacrificed before so in manic heavenward stare let the confession from our lungs that as our bodies torch the air to the fanfare and the drums, amid drunken wild acclaim, we have the urge to scream Your name. and without hesitance or shame affirm our place among the burning. And our bodies break, confirming our inability to remain without an object for our yearning.
Our inability, our inability.
"Oh God, accept our spirits into Your holy presence"