Burn Him At The Stake


They convicted me
for selling untruth
and dealing in half-truths;

it is a workaday world;
do your work and go;

why O songster! thou sing
and plant pain in our hearts?

why sow dreams in the flower pots
filled with rdx

leave this world
it is our world;
secured against the skies;
protected against dreams;
walled in from freedom;
and dipped in darkness;

O songster! keep off your light
it blinds us;

No songs, please.
We love our painful joys.
These containers are our world;
Leave us to our fate;
It is painful if you remind us of our wings;
Please don’t talk of the skies;
don’t talk of the flights;

Leave us to our fate;
When destined to live in a dungeon;
better not look at the sky
the dreams of freedom
make it worse;

We disown you as an alienated soul;
Singing songs of rebellion
court is in session to
declare you a heretic
and order your burning at the stake.

Art: Elena Caldera

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