Artiste

All the lovers tried to worship me
like they've found their goddess finally
who'll make their art complete.
But I ended up being an atheist and

pushed them to be born again as atheists,

For they'll never try to worship me again.
They all confessed their desire to get sensual pleasure from their goddess,
But they're all pushed away as I cursed their art not to be done.

They searched for witty pleasure,
They searched for a connection of intellect,
But all they've found from other people is just skin and flesh.

They crawled back to me saying,
Getting in touch with your Psych is equal to getting the pleasure of sex.

They came back again and again to fill their desire to be played psychologically.
They came back, again and again, to have intercourse with the goddess and give birth to their art.

But The Goddess ended up being an atheist and pushed all of them away.

For she had to give birth to an Artist
who was busy creating noise and messing up with his infants,

unaware that there's a Psych who pushed the whole universe away.