Inspired by the definition of Infidel inThe Devil’s dictionary by Ambrose Bierce (1911)
You can call me a scoundrel
Or the wandering infidel.
Am I profoundly different?
I’m just not reverent.
I don’t require a pope
To give me hope
I don’t count on a parson
To prevent an arson.
Go away, you deacons,
My tolerance weakens,
Black friars, begone! Leave me alone!
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
Shut up, hierophant!
Your chant is irrelevant,
I spit on you
And your charm-selling crew.
The world needs no nun
Hiding from the sun,
No prophet, no pilgrim
When the light goes dim.
I don’t believe in God,
I may run, I may plod
I may see or be blind but I won’t change my mind.
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
You can call me a villain,
Catch me if you can, chaplain!
Torture me till I confess
To the crimes that obsess
Your acolytes and you,
And all novices too!
Logic lies dead
Where missionaries tread,
“Reason's out of fashion,
It's time for passion”
Says the bloody bishop, oh! Will it ever stop?
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
No dollar-hungry mollah here,
No bloody fakeer,
No medicine-man around,
No voodoo baron downtown.
No levitating, lama!
No smoking, Torquemada!
No whirling, dervish!
No child-molesting in the parish
Please,
I don’t want any of these
Religions old and new in my world now.
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
