Savior, shed none of your blood for me, for you are not my Christ.
I have tasted the bland and lifeless swill of your salvation and I spit it out.

When I offered you love, it was never enough and I gave you faith until I had none left. But now I see you for what you are, not the prince of peace, just the king of slaves.

Father, I deny you that name, for I am not your son. I have lived in the light of your heavenly love in all of its glory and it was as cold as death. You would break my spirit and demand praise. You would curse my heart and call it love.

If this is the fruit of your holy kingdom, I want none of it.
I would rather burn.  

Speak not of the devil, yours is the face of true evil.