O, the vengeful one, 

In lieu of following the word and admitting to sins committed,

Chose to cast herself more deeply into the cult, 

Fleeing the truth, fleeing sincerity, fleeing love, 

And compounding her heresy exponentially. 

This, the cult of the white, privileged patriarch, the cult that was ruining the world with its bile and false Christianity, espousing the will of the devil and calling it gospel, 

The desires of base ego, greed, judgment, bigotry, control, and disdain for others not their own, hatred cloaked in a sheen of piety, 

This is what she chose as her harbor, as her salvation.

She chose to be just like the one she’d been tortured by in that same den of backwards thought, the one she’d fled, in those mountains plagued with ignorance and stupidity, professing purity and innocence as a holy martyr … when a scoundrel, 

And yet she returned there … to be just like him, 

Hiding behind a filthy film of righteousness she did not merit, 

A deeper lie to compliment the lies unconfessed. 

The vengeful heart would put on a mask of religious fervor to run from accountability, run from love, run from herself, playing a part in a show that hid horrors,

A show her god did not acknowledge as his own, 

Vulgar, evil men and submissive women lobotomized by choice, for money and security, smiling in falsity, as she did, children whose only true motivation being possession and vice behind closed doors.

It was all a lie. 

She was vain and unrepentant, and this is what she chose instead of honesty and a true heart that had only dared to love her too much. 

Hell awaited her on earth and beyond, and she had chosen it.