These religious paraphernalia,
They no longer smell of nostalgia,
No where near home, no longer nirvana,
Where comfort used to lie,
Now cradles words they humorously falsify,
The gods that used to lull me—
now filled with monstrosity,
Unbelievers I used to ridicule,
Only to realize I was a fool,
Opened my eyes to real things that shine,
Maybe sometimes all we have to do is read between the lines.

CMT