The barbarism of a tongue held
Chained in silence
The words weld
The heart shut to everything but the mind
Trapped behind bars as no man shall ever cross the line
A line for fools
Engraved from their tears in the grey ground
Who were not scared enough to speak their mind
When they appeared giddy as a clown
But the adversary of man sits on every man's shoulder
Deceptively gentle, with long legs dangling over
Whispering seductive, only more relentless as man gets older
That mistakes can be served colder or hotter, and neither choice matters in the end
(Omitting both are gobbled up by the mind in late night regrets)
Bending the resolve of the so-called ethical
Lending a motive to the mouth's means to complete the puzzle of crime
To have an excuse for the lips rebellion against the divine