Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The Heretic

Under the hill of Blasphemy
Doth shine a lite always.
Leading thee into Conspiracy
In whose grasp ye heart forever stays.

Walk softly upon this path
Keep ye forever straight.
Hold onto what you hath
And ye shall know ye fate

Faithe shall not linger
Or ye soul may go astray
Ye may be caught
Betwixt the nite and the day.

Walk swiftly heretic
Time be running out
Hear the clock tic
It be tyme to reason with ye doubts

Walking always in twilight
Keeping pace with the dusk
Running an endless flite
With no one you can trust

Spend some time with ye thoughts
For the cock crew once times three
Now ye hear the shots
And ye fear be set free

Now engulfed with panic
Alle logik be now lost
Remain true Heretic
No matter what the cost.

© 2012 Robert Barbere