The Postmodern Man

I’m a sinner, so I’ve been told

And crucified I might be for my sins
For sin is a crime, then and now
That must be bestowed its own Calvary
Not to purge away its stains tho’
But to give a mark of permanence
A mark that enslaves its bearer
To remind him of his sins, his place
And to remind Them of their purity
To enhance the hierarchical establishment
That determines the line ’tween good and evil
Tho’ vague as these terms may be
Preaching their gospel with expediency
They romanticise and enforce a divinity
They construct and orchestrate a sin

Confining truth within a hermeneutical paradigm
And condemn the pariahs and the sinners
To their hell through their panoptical gaze
And yet, here I stand, beyond good and evil
Preaching ‘I’m right, you’re right, we’re all right’
And still I’m a heretic that must be crucified
Well, if you must, at least I’ll die doing what I love,
You’ll however be haunted by the specter of a free spirit