to be innocent
in a room full of mass hysteria!
who know not your heart,
but feel obliged to hate you,
judge and persecute you,
in spite of facts;
just as they persecuted Jesus,
always spilled for the sake of insanity
and for the sheep masses false sense
She sits as a princess in the dark tower,
longing for home,
growing older and jaded
as times passes; a wilting rose
awaiting her deliverance
and the white light of truth,
as a murderer
in the pitch black darkness
of his heart.
Will truth be enough to save her,
where people close their eyes
and their superstitious minds, and
hearsay rules the kingdom?
Let freedom ring at last and aloud for the innocent.
Joyce Burns, January, 2011