I lay here in a pool of blood
death nears it's final stage
a darkness covers like a flood
to take me to my cage
but how did I become so cold
with rage enough to kill
the seconds left I have to hold
recalls my stolen will
for I have heard of these great men
whose plans would save the day
but evil men whose names Id pen
would soon become my prey
the talking heads and learned folk
would speak of all their sin
till anger, malice, hate did stoke
the fire that raged within
these men of sin and hate would seek
to stop salvation's day
but talk was proving way too meek
so I would find a way
although my ways they cried for peace
these greats frustrated war
so found I justified release
to strip me of my core
I heard the cry of all the greats
that sketched this man of straw
drawn racist, sexist evil traits
till that is all I saw
soon souls became no more than names
that needed snuffing out
when those that played those evil games
upon me feigned devout
a weapon blinded by their rage
is what they made of me
and I now sit in hellish cage
as they live fine and free...
~Moses Apollo
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