The Soul Anemic

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Tartuffe among us stands
Concealed in vast illusions
The blood upon his hands

Sanctimonious principate
Self-righteous to the core
Saturn’s rings will dissipate
Before I drink the lies you pour

Look down upon your brother
Diagnose him as all wrong
And as his flame you smother
That prescription proves too strong

A dissembler hides within our ranks
Lifestyle counterfeit
And washed ashore along the banks
Blood from throats he slit

Now floating by - the corpse of man
You helped lay to rest
No option but to end his span
Quiets torment in his chest

To live a life so free from sin
Must prove no easy task
While true life lies deep within
Beneath your pristine mask

As you’ve judged me, so I’ll judge you
By Grace I wish you well
If the grace you extend were the Grace you were due
You would surely burn in Hell