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In the Morning, an Atheist

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In the morning I am an atheist.
I spring from my bed,
Firm in my faithless belief,
Stone walls of rationalism
With buttresses of steely logic
And the cannons of science
Lining the ramparts of my
Impregnable, impenetrable fortress.

In the morning I am an atheist,
And I strut through my day
Held tall by the strength of my non-faith;
My convictions my backbone.
I scoff at the foolish notions of others,
Shielded by my parapets
As my cannons shoot holes in the
Wandering ships of religion.

In the morning I am an atheist,
But as darkness creeps in like the
Black cats of the superstitious,
(Among whom I do not number)
My inviolable bulwarks
Crumble like dust,
Melt like butter in the hot summer sun,
Flee before the nondescript shadows
as a thief flees the crime scene.





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