Taedium Sanctus

 

Lay me to rest,

In his heroic feats,

For I am overshadowed,

Cast in sin, and solemnly forgotten.

My motivation brought to light.

My body left in dark.

I spilled the blood of innocent,

For what I thought was right.

And this is all that’s left of me

My chemical outcome,

A Vile filth, the gutter swine

For shinning I am not.

 

Taedium was beckon word,

As Sanctus is my house.

A “pawn to all my church’s words,”

The commoners should say

But malice in my mace

Made quick to hold the tongue.

 

My death I know I swiftly met,

For I had sought it out,

Born so blind and ignorant,

I fondly fit my mold,

 

A Bigot to the blasphemous.

I pit my spite against fair odds,

A man who knew true light,

His common name took many forms,

For frivolous was his treaded path.

They called him Lied, the cradles child,

Demon, or the fallen angel.

A man who’d met the deepest dark,

The grim end of my church’s blade,

His true name few should learn.

An abomination he was marked,

His bounty High and fat.