A Men | Hora do Cappuccino #43

A Men

They give me life.

They offer me sacrifices.

They create their own gate,

Thinking they're clever because they hold the key.

They sit on the throne

And place the crown upon themselves.

But they made me too,

I was only a thought before.

Then a desire, then an idea.

I just became bigger, better and beyond.

They give me a name,

They make me a face.

And then throw it away.

They want me to be the god of all.

I needed to have all the faces,

All the names of gods and goddesses.

Now they look at themselves just like me, like kings.

Sitting in their thrones made of the blood of slaves, healers and vigilantes.

The god made in man's image, the "perfect" creation.

By men who use rape, killing, and dominance as their foundation.

But now I'm bigger than them,

I don't even move my hands.

If they see others stop believing in me.

They would kill them.

Thinking their spirits would just disappear,

And god? God would always forgive.

They don't even know what they created to torture and scare those innocent people.

But all creations with this purpose return to their creators to do what they were made to do: evil.

What's the name they told you I have?

Which of those invented stories about me did they share?

I could have been only their shadow.

But I became the god of men.

I'm fed by war, warriors, blood, politics, dominion,

Control, conquest, fear, lies and division.

Amen