I Wasn’t Raised On Scripture

I wasn’t raised on scripture or a certain ideology 

I had my own brain and was allowed to let it follow me 

Many times in youth, hit hard with the truth,

But I never let it swallow me

And I’ve met God plenty of times but he never did acknowledge me

I’ve been broken before, so many times have I wallowed deep

Drowned it out with wine and missed out on life with sleep

Smoked so many fags sometimes I find it hard to breath

And sometimes I wonder, if I had that religion would I find peace?

If I went to church every week and prayed for Jesus to save me

Would I lose all my darkness? Or would it seep

In again, and I’d find resentment in the meat?

Would it give me more scapegoats and would it mean

That I didn’t have to worry so much about my actions?

Because no matter what people think, it’s my God that controls reaction

If I wanted a hundred percent and only found a fraction,

Does that mean I didn’t worship properly and’ll receive a sanction?

If I take a day off, dance with the devil, partake in forbidden interaction

Does that mean I’m no longer worthy of my Lord’s compassion?

If I meet a woman, fall in love and enjoy this same sex attraction 

Does that mean I’m lost fodder and my purity has blackened? 

If I take drugs or fuck up, or care about my hair and my fashions

Does this rip away my beliefs, or are they just relaxing?

I think of all the rules, all the confinements and I can’t imagine

Living life with such restriction and pleasure rationed 

But wait a minute, how about all the good that can happen?

How about the fact that this godly relationship is a mutual transaction?

The feeling of permanent support and never feeling alone

The trust that you have someone looking over your family, your home

This constant knowing that there’s an answer to your unknown 

And this structure of ingrained belief residing in your bones

I suppose I have envy, my feet sometimes float and my head feels empty

And religious people can go back to the book and read plenty

About their people, I’m left with only voiced memories

Shady pasts and funny sundries 

Little nicknacks, antiques and family names 

Little drug stories and drunken shames,

Little tales and claims to fame 

But no set in stone belief of how we came

To our land, how we dressed and what we ate 

No idea of our first man and woman, or how the world was created

And if I’m honest, in my soul the whole garden scene is just fabricated 

But I love the power in it, so many metaphors and fundamentals stated

But this whole man before woman shit is outdated 

I’d rather use these words as outline, and our own hearts illustrated 

The course of our lives, not letting outside influence dictate it 

My mum and dad put food on the table off their own back

Had responsibilities that they couldn’t let off slack

I’ve got my own journey that I’m getting on track

We didn’t get help from no community and I’m grateful for that

Everyday a new thought pops up that I sit back

Watch float through and think that

It’s pretty incredible what I can do off my own back

My own brain, my own godly being, and I’m fine with that

I’ve found my answers through this piece, something needed getting out

But I don’t want someone else telling me what I’m all about

Nature’s there, so I am, we are all the same

So I’m going to stop trying to find reasoning for my own brain

I’m going to focus on my power, and my beauty, that I’ve learnt to appreciate

No Priest or Iman or Guru can pave my way

No holy book or certain text can ever say

What I need to hear, because it’s held in my own breath and I’m listening again

I’ve been asking for so long

Do I need a bible? Do I need an idle?

Do I need a god, do I not? 

Do I need the Quran or just an arm

Round my shoulder?

I’m looking for reassurance the more I get older 

How about the Mahabharata, or maybe just the upanishads for starters?

Is Prometheus actually my father? 

Maybe someone out there has these questions’ answers

But I’ve found mine, in my poetry, so that’s my existence’s master

My passion don’t need to be dictated or my fears vindicated 

I don’t want to censor myself in worry that I’ll be hated

By my community or fated

To misery just because I’m Me

I wasn’t raised on scripture or a certain ideology 

I’m thankful for that now, because I finally see

I don’t need it. 



By Lyric Deep.

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