Self, Waking

I imagined and face and called it God,
Then one said he was God’s spokesman
And I must obey whatever he’d say
Or I’d go to Hell as a broke man.

I imagined a Hell and scared me to death,
Then imagined rewards for obeying.
Then I cowered me in for the guilt of a sin
When I was a fetus a-straying.

Sudden, I stopped; how ridiculous, this!
Reality’s real, not imagined!
Let others go pray and deceive them in play,
But I’ll be a wide-awake pagan!

Oh, how many men do lie to themselves,
Then trick themselves with believing
That what is not real can be an ideal,
But is only a mind self-deceiving!

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