Panic
Run down the masses, burn all the books
The rumor reigns
Stagnant
Psychic visions with spitting mouths and chained hands
Take their brains away

Monster
Defend it for pity of ugly
Evil with no shame
Fight fair
Hands up, lock eyes with a warrior of God
Shoot him in the back

Whisper
Truth to your heart, shared only sparing
Behind locked doors
Belief
Like the patron saint of ignorance
Justify your way

Hearsay
A circumstantial execution
Of virtue scorned
Heresy
Of one's who'd burn a world rather than bow a head
Deny imperfection