the culture of the cross spreads out from the tongues of prophets & clergies its ways so tender like wool but they throw bayonet at those who don't raise the flag of their culture— they say they are entitled to burn.
the culture of the star too spreads out from the tongues of clerics & sheiks its way so rigid like baobab they also throw dirk at those who don't clasp their culture— they say they will be plagued with fire.
my father's voice carries his culture although its way so primitive like relics, it snatches my love as it leads people into its bosom sans scaring those who don't enter with fire.
