The Martyr

You cursed my eyes open
When all I could see was black with glittering buttons of light when the light crossed.
And all I saw was white all around-a world different from what I had known and seen.

You're scarred and broken against the might and greed forced on you.
And you plead to die, if not, get over the pain quickly.
And what was & never will be is in the disguise of the sheep that still bleats on the mountain side crying against the biting winds that storm from the north.

And you shall never be born again,
But we will carry on, murderers who killed you and me.
And you'll still beckon, you'll yet plead
And we'll lend our ears, but never will we ever meet.

Let my eyes shut and let me hallucinate of streaks of light in a place where silver women talk to trees,
Where lust and greed rarely meet,where you barely choke from the smoke and filth.
Yes we will meet there, in a world lost long before in dreams and songs,
And the sheep shall bleat on the mountainside while I'll look down,
Circling against the white rocks in the untouched blue, flying against the west wind that plays puppeteer to the trees.

And you shall be born again...