A Sonnet Pondering

There on a mound a crime today is born How can you build there with unbridled trust To this day, citizens from hell can scorn Preponderance of evidence, shows lust Those left behind beneath the grass are lost Each sentient soul sold to the lot of grief Left overs are we who now know the cost Forged over millenniums as wanton thieves You are not poisoned, prisoners of deeds Where each breath is but a reflex taken Through time we seek out levels for our creed As clarity finds heaven an awakening On a breeze, criminals hang there from trees With strange ideas of freedom, being free