The Inquisition’s dead
In Western liberal minds,
Yet elsewhere people live in fear
Of being punished for their “crimes”
Not saying who they really love,
Or speaking things that they believe,
Or being who they really are,
Or even thinking differently
For them, the Inquisition lives
In families and friends alike;
In private and in public spaces,
It haunts their ever-fearful minds
Dishonor and disownment hang
About each fateful choice they make,
'Til suicide at last allows
The lone escape from sanctioned hate
And so they dare not tell the truth
In this “Enlightened” age of ours
Where freedom's greeted by the noose
And heretics are tried and burned,
For simply being different.
Feeling trapped, locked down, freedom withdrawn!
Is the person who I feel I am?
Wanting to express the feelings deep inside
Why is it hard to tell those closest to me?
The one thing that could set me free
Hidden is the way they stay,
Desperately wanting to tell someone
With the fear it would break their hearts,
What should I do?
Should I turn and let life pass me by,
Should I be proud of who I am,
Should I risk a life of disownment?
For a life that is my own
I no longer want to be this person, hiding away in shame
Le me, be free
Let me, be me!
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