Inspired by the definition of Infidel inThe Devil’s dictionary by Ambrose Bierce (1911)
You can call me a scoundrel Or the wandering infidel. Am I profoundly different? I’m just not reverent. I don’t require a pope To give me hope I don’t count on a parson To prevent an arson. Go away, you deacons, My tolerance weakens, Black friars, begone! Leave me alone!
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
Shut up, hierophant! Your chant is irrelevant, I spit on you And your charm-selling crew. The world needs no nun Hiding from the sun, No prophet, no pilgrim When the light goes dim. I don’t believe in God, I may run, I may plod I may see or be blind but I won’t change my mind.
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
You can call me a villain, Catch me if you can, chaplain! Torture me till I confess To the crimes that obsess Your acolytes and you, And all novices too! Logic lies dead Where missionaries tread, “Reason's out of fashion, It's time for passion” Says the bloody bishop, oh! Will it ever stop?
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!
No dollar-hungry mollah here, No bloody fakeer, No medicine-man around, No voodoo baron downtown. No levitating, lama! No smoking, Torquemada! No whirling, dervish! No child-molesting in the parish Please, I don’t want any of these Religions old and new in my world now.
I am the one in the bottomless pit, in the furnace Appollyon!