Cryptopsy

Man-made doom bled death from the sky;
to all but a few, salvation was denied
Heavenly father, son and holy ghost,
save your servants (those of us who aren't toast)
The not-yet-dead discovered that to be
a nuclear family means a whole new thing;
All-too-trusting shambling pseudomorphs
put their trust in a man of the cloth
Make them hate you, rotting cleric...
Remember, you are pu of my loins, you are pus
Give voice to your left side, let me in: