The Dammed

The Skeptic, With his torch and its light, which seems subdued On my knowledge he will scorch with a true, which tends towards lying And condemns me into dyeing in due course The Scholars, They tend to turn what could be true, into lies which best unlearned And take the knowledge of the ages twisting it to empty pages, only fit to burn The People, Oh how they follow, down their streets and in their churches, only lead by something hollow, is it dead, staunchly waiting, cold and empty, calculating This I pray not so. The Masses, Like stubborn asses, do not love, the one above, but keep crying while denying that they killed The Peaceful Dove , and This bring them to disaster, serving blindly, their evil Master