And the blood of sacrifice, flowing
out, is shed to appease the gods,
the greater deity, our guilt
absolved,
cleansed and atoned of our sins;
but maybe the gods remain
unsatisfied,
the smell of blood, the crackle of
burned
flesh an offense, this temporary
groveling
soon forgotten; what they want, perhaps,
what they ask of us, is life and
purpose,
humanity, again, reflecting them.
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