Written by: Vanesa Markovic

Present, in this bed I lay, and
tonight, they will order me to pray.
Within these four walls that contain my madness,
only god and repentance will absolve me of my sadness,
for I had once dared leave the solitude of my mind.
How can I pray when my hands you bind?
No longer a free being am I, in this world.
I can no longer shout, so how will I be heard?
Yesterday, my spirit and I were defeated, and
tomorrow I fear this will all be repeated.
Haven't you heard a word that I say?
How will I get better, bound, gagged and unable to pray?
Why in your faces, does my agony bring you gladness?
Am I onto a secret, therefore deemed made of badness?
The only thing you have ever inclined,
is that no free thinking man will be left unrefined.
All will be plucked, one by one from the herd,
and if non-compliant, forever be labeled absurd.
Like sinners, and the insane, they will be treated,
and if not changed, they will be deleted.
Well then, a martyr in this life I will now play, for
your disgrace I will not now, I will not ever obey.

-May god have mercy on your souls.