Heterodox

Ceased I am to speak

If not a tone of your own

Shunned are my beliefs

If not a tickle stains your bones


Fancy I think not

The vanity upon your tongue

A fool I shall not dwindle

In the hollow web you've spun


For you see I do not boast

On how I'm one with a fable

Nor do I kneel in worship to

What may appear sable


So you mutter below your breath

Yet I carry not a care

An act all too natural

In your eyes more than rare.


Your 'art' an act of trickery

To mimic the truly gifted

Your disciples deem you bright

Though I depict you truly wicked


The Bible I refrain from viewing

As a showcase for my anguish

Fiction may define the moment

But your faith just might vanquish