[Verse 1: Essam Temuri]
Spiritual insight, through myopic eyes
Seeing the depth greater than anyone could
Try to provide this, a menace of logic and
Reason-induced hatred of clergy-clearly a heathen
But on the grand spectrum, a terrorist
Maybe an infidel, maybe a nuisance-known this
From the clear blue skies, the eyes, of (k)night
Calling me, probably. to scold me, a serf with
No direction, not even a priest would provide-
Direction-correction-prize in-dignitaries
Monetary prize for recovery, in the eyes of God-
Maybe a fiend, maybe a thief, maybe a clown-
Maybe a dean, of irrelevance, maybe someone
Who believes, but yet is often haunted-by
Negative comments of being a degenerate-like
The artwork he presented
[Verse 2: Essam Temuri]
Too ignorant, too emotional-
This polymath got the door open to
Too many option of ridicule-to
A pitiful, monetary caste system
An undesirable-subject to unthinkable
Injustices, fully at the hands of Imams and priests
Claiming to be touch by God-higher than the plebeians-
Oh Lord, can't even testify with the plebeians-
Wandering aimlessly, rarely saved, or Lord
These tangents are driving me insane-truly met
All of them, Muhammad, Buddha, Jesus, even
Abraham, even God-
But still inadequate-still irrelevant-
Still inadequate-still irrelevant
To the point of many damages-taken place
At the hands of the (k)nights-at the hand
Of the Feudal Lord, scratch that, Feudal
Cold-hearted prude, who can't even
Understand the words of Echo