Amongst The Dead
The Great Accusation
"What is it you stand for?" My hand upon stacked pages Under an oath inscribed in A heart not my own. Before decrepit judge and jury, So pure on the outside, Only here can I see what they really are. Their words spill out before me, And my soul sinks like a thousand shipwrecks. You may not speak against them. You have no mouth in this court room. Stray from their laws and surely you will be punished. What is it I stand for? I stand for those who could not. I plead for understanding. I can hear them shouting: "Stand down, blasphemer!" I stand accused, place the blindfold. The bullets of self righteousness will never miss. My body opened and spilling gore, I paint a portrait of retribution onto your soil. What a glorious example the Church has made of me
From Letras Mania