Pleased to meet you, mortals – I am HE, the cosmic con,
Ringmaster for believers since the circus first came on.
I moulded mud into a man, for company a rib –
No genders, just slapstick, a punchline you still ad-lib.
Paradise? Of course! I staged the first and finest trap:
Apples dangling temptingly, the snake coached for the act.
I birthed original sin to keep you all in line –
Condemn you for your nature, then sell forgiveness by design.
Every age, fresh rules and wars, invented in My name.
Preachers barking “peace and love!” while setting towns aflame.
“Thou shalt not kill” UNLESS they’re “other” or ask why,
Blessed be the bankroll, for the preachers never die.
Delighted by confusion, I coined some clever tricks –
Like “woke,” now weaponised with zealots’ politics,
To smear the ones still striving for the universal good;
My flock sneers “socialist!”— an evangelical falsehood.
For every act of kindness, they conjure up a threat,
And turn the words of justice to a ruse for fear and debt.
I conjured up the billionaires, gave crooks their Sunday suits,
My servants rolling in the gold, the faithful destitute.
Coin-operated politicians, piety for rent –
Profit in My prophet’s name, divinely fraudulent.
For laughs, I spawned two jesters – Trump with all his bluster,
And Murdoch with his headlines bred to fracture, foil, and fluster.
Both quoting holy writ with grift in every grin,
Proclaiming hate as gospel while they rake the rubes right in.
So here I sit, immortal, grinning at your mess –
Religions split and fighting while all claim to be blessed.
Pray and tremble, fear me, debate what I have said –
If hypocrisy is holy, I’m the god who breaks the bread.
