During the season of rain, lightly forgotten the rule of shame.
"Mercy to those who opposed us, but poison the cup of betrayal."
Hundred steps to the hanging tree.
Face worn, but the eyes ablaze.
Plea for another day to make you forget the crimes on his conscience.

Finally awake, eyelids pulled open and strapped down tight.
Condition the mind off its pleasures and force a reaction to the violence.
At the nightly stairway I hear the steps.
The twisted victims would smile at me.
The mentally erased can't hurt us with their horror.

I warned them not for a day to lightly forget the rule of shame.
A choice for a chooser to make,
but the head of another no-ones to take.
Such a pitiful punish to snip the cowards lifeline, end the regression.
No more suffering the actions of the man he became that day.

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