Confession

I see, you watching me
I am your enemy.
Point the smoking gun
Shoot the pebbles upon which my
Blistered feet stand.

His heart pierced by an army of loyal daggers
For the forgiveness of the grandest sin.
As do I place the precious lamb,
To be sold to a proud man,
For he is the blessed man
And this is to mark the honour of your
worthless existence.

To wish is a daydream of mine.
For you my eyelids will be shed,
Of all their wishes.

Her radiant hand,
Blesses the young souls of our lost generation.
His scriptures give the blind,
Eyes to stare into the heavens.
Your weapon is a house of bloody feathers,
That begs to defeat the power of belief,
But look into his eyes,
And realise that who he is
You will never be.