The Sunlight

Through when he says grace,
 When he says grace, he feels enveloped like a shadow
 There are evenings when this decimated world of movement, colour, form,
 Is thin and getting thinner
 When lights are dim and getting dimmer
 when nights are grim and they're only getting,
 Only getting grimmer
 As they barter their boulders and martyr their soldiers,
 Teach a man to tear her fucking head from her goddamn shoulders
 Held into the sun by the threads of her hair,
 They impart a secret hatred from their fathers to their heirs
 Suppressed and unaddressed the simple fact remains unspoken,
 In silence left unbroken, on a bed bound and gagged
 With culture, language, myth and law: our Goddess gave birth to your God
 From a wounded womb where her flesh scarred and raw
 Our Goddess gave birth to your God