Blasphemy- by the promised one

What they sell is fear,
What they preach are stories practiced well.
Those dressed in coloured robes are thugs,
And lies are all they tell.

Hopes they sell,
To sedate tumultuous minds,
Tamed, the followers follow,
Ignorant souls draped in opaque blinds.

My conscience,
Will never outshine their talent of deceit.
So, I won't tell you right from wrong,
In your denial, lies my defeat.

I wish you luck in life,
And in your misguided journey of bliss.
If at all I should,
I will tell you this-

No man ever met God,
No man was or will ever be his son.
Writes this disclaimer, ironically,
He who came closest to becoming the one.