They are breaking down the doors,
my enemies, my emotions, my own heart aching
as the world raises its loathsome weapon;
a hanging rope of scorn to choke out hope,
and make of love a pestilence..
and I may weep, and I may pray,
and lose myself to vice along the way
-but still I do not fear,
for righteousness has a place even beyond death,
and each man earns his fate.