Rumblings of Blasphemy 

We begged your masters
Snivelled like dogs for succour
Yet they shunned our pleas
Withheld their legend like blessings from us

We sought their face
We even gave our gold
Yet they left us weak
Susceptible to many a bloody plunder

Now we are free
From your yolk
And that of your masters
For we have found succour  in our minds

And now you beg
Representative nay Personification.
Of your Masters
You beg for recognition

Sod! Your masters are dead
Powerless at best
Or cruel if they do have power
For they snubbed our many fervent supplications

Now go forth – back
Tell your masters
That you have found no slaves in us
Neither have you found gullible worshippers

Tell him also
That we do not heap praises
On unseens who do not accept blames
Tell him!!

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