Writer: Jeff Kronn
Subject: The Apostate’s Flesh — After D.H. Lawrence
Link: ReligiousFetish.com / 01.05.2026
The Apostate’s Flesh
Now and again the rhythmic throbbing starts,
The heavy, aching pulse within my fucking veins;
And my body, once a cool and quiet shrine,
Becomes a godless pit where only lust remains.
I look down at this stiff, demanding rod,
This pillar of meat that mocks the name of God.
Thou art my Master, thou hot and dripping thing,
Better than any prayer the hollowed churches sing.
I offer no incense, no hymns of “holy” light,
Only the sweat and the filth of a desperate night.
For what is a soul but a ghost, thin and pale,
Compared to this cock, this hammer, this nail?
Let the pews be empty, let the altars rot,
For in this white-hot heat, the “Sacred” is forgot.
I bend my head not in prayer, but in greed,
To serve the dark hunger, the flow of the seed.
Violate the silence, break the “Virgin” seal,
For only the profane is powerful and real.
Amen to the friction, amen to the moan,
I am my own temple, on a carnal throne.