The Death of the Slave Driver

I need to be different than what I am
To earn the favor of God
Is what I've heard
Minute by minute
Hour by hour
Day by day
Year by year
Since I can remember
And for some time now
I've been strangling him.
He put up a much bigger fight at the beginning.
Now he kicks occasionally,
As his face turns blue,
And he slumps.

It's strangely quiet

But there's a still small voice.