He

The shaken spirit; harden through the ashes of the innocent,
Released into a World of perfection, or is it?

The World that pushed him into the alley of sorrow,
Numb to the core, he walks with feet on floor and a heart of stone.

Revenge of a torn flesh and scares of a strengthen heart, now begs for silence,
The silence - his poison and his antidote.

Convicted a murdered, but born a son,
These tears won’t dry soon, these wounds refute to heal.

Money, sloth and greed, they chose him as a prey,
With smiles on their faces, crosses around their necks, they hid the knife against their backs.

The night he fails to forget,
Innocent blood on innocent hands.

Law blinded by evidence; evil wins, blameless victim takes shape.
His spirit now shaken, but will it ever break?

Today he stands alone in what is defined as freedom,
He rebukes it, his innocence is his freedom.

His freedom lies now in murdering the lies.
His freedom lies in embracing his innocence,
His freedom lies in closing his eyes to the denunciations of the World.

A World that defines how freedom is,
A World that appreciates the power of the greedy and shuns the innocent.


Inspired write-up listening to the song A Martian Winter. This post speaks about how a son is wrongly convicted in murdering his widowed mother by his family. Today, he is released from the prison; he rejects the World's perception about freedom and all he thirsts and clings on is to his innocence - perceived as self-righteous innocence by the World!