You throw your stones
I drop my own
You claim to love, but drown and disown
You hunt the truth like it’s a wild beast
Unleashing all your traps
And like a thief, you string it up
(Never mind it’s dead and hung)
You beat the Truth with mindless fists
And claim you know it in your righteousness.
“You are weak,” you say to me.
but I am strong enough to see
that you’re no more than a Pharisee.