The last letter of blatant words condemns one’s thoughts
Yet, truth and lies hurt in our freedom of religion

Unbelievers speak and fight their own slanderous path
Yet, modern romanticism thrives in bitter sweet times

Writers critique riddled lyrics and light of knowledge
Yet, question wordless replies that have doubt to smile

Lame philosophy torments innocence minds like grains of sands
Yet, eternity calls outcry in the sword of defence

Unbendingly cliché, the stern morality of betrayal
Yet, our hearts voice goodwill without idleness

What do you have in the ability to survive in the external world
Yet, the division between persona and new blood Christianity exist

Mixing fact with fiction how fluid is identity with unreliable narrators
Yet, they are purged with pride though still live in darkness of the past

But, no man or woman has written their epitaph
Yet, the anonymous voice has the final say of words