Shame, Constantine, and Charlemagne

My mother's religion sent so many to hell,
Even though they now say they did not do well:
Her beloved uncle who committed suicide
And her last baby that, before birth, died.

And my grandmother, they named a whore
Because her husband, Catholicism, forswore.
My mother spent her life feeling, by this sin, tainted,
Though her mother, for her faith, should be sainted.

Her daughters and sons, when molested,
Her Church, my mother's claims, protested,
Had they not sworn to teach and protect
Even those whom our society rejects?

She could not leave because only they held
The key to the gates of eternal hell.
She continued to kneel for the blessings of men
Who had infected her children with their sin.

She could never accept that one can be saved
Without a clerical blessing at one's grave.
We are The Church Militant, we were told.
This designation has made me bold.

I refuse to believe that one with a black soul
Has the power to make anyone whole.
Strong drink and drugs may deaden their shame
But it doesn't take away The Church's blame.

Where are the souls that my mother mourned,
And we were taught we were to scorn?
If Hell is eternal, how can they now say,
The same people are those to whom we may pray?

When will we realize that the Christian well
Was poisoned when, into politics, it fell?
The false faith of Constantine and Charlemagne
Created a church focused on earthly gain.

Men of power were treated as gods
As they destroyed the path that the prophets trod.
It is time that all children of Abraham
Stop acting as sheep to power-hungry man.

The Spirit of Divinity is not taught in school;
It is simply the spark in which all nature is full.
Those who use charisma to lead children to sin
Aren't even worth treating as fully human.

A millstone should they tie about their own necks
And throw themselves into the sea.
Only by them following this biblical teaching
Will The Almighty's people ever be free.