“ Exile “
Beneath the bright sun, the exile wonders
His heart is turned in, his spirit ponders
What sins he has done to deserve his fate
Alone he must wait for his death day to come
When he was a child, his parents forsook him
They set him adrift, consigned to the dark whim
Of fortune, He grew, and soon was a man
‘Twas then that his thoughts ran to vengeance and doom
He challenged his father, and cut off his head
He challenged the priesthood, and left the priest dead
He challenged the people, and they drove him out
Into exile, Now doubt plagues his mind and soul
How different are we, than he wandering there
Forsaken by nature, forbidden to care
Of other poor mortals in trial after trail
We are the exiles!
Amusement to angels, but vermin to God!!
