The lie you believe in is still there, protected.

Alive and denying, it rules from the temple

That no one could enter, and spreads its dominion

To desperate souls with an absurd existence.

Philosophy as consolation, unyielding.

Belief that is built and created by many

To keep us apart and to leave us alone when

We mostly need truth or a chance or a close hand.

It ends with betrayal, expected and quiet.

When God is just dead and all heaven is scorched.

The faces of all that believed you are still there,

As foreign as hope, disappointed, unchanging.