Praxis

No nails in your hands, but they're forced in the dirt
 Witless
 Docile
 Dragged with the herd
 You bathe in blood
 You scum, you worthless swine
 Guilty where you stand
 Murder of the mind
 Empty fucking stomach from vomiting lies
 Your heaven is a prison and your cross a disguise
 Your words that you've bastardized
 My bastard eyes you've cauterized
 Clawed my tongue from my mouth, silencing my cries
 You're just a crook
 Crooked as your smile
 I see your false gaze, that whisper of fear
 Deeper and deeper, you dig the world's grave
 Deeper and deeper, just the work of a slave
 (Lifeless eyes open, wilt as you enslave)
 Twisting your words
 Counterfeit truth
 Twisting your words, tie up your noose