Poetry: Black Sheep

paint a mirror white as snow
and you’ll see nothing but the lie
written by the fingers of the fury you deny

splash the brick with blue like blood
to hide the tears that dripped from chins
when you broke the farce in half and tossed it in a bin

write with fingers dipped in red
the hollow cries that none can hear
and perhaps their tainted eyes will see what they most fear

wear the hood that casts in violet
the truths few souls concede are real
for in shadow you will find the source of godly zeal

place on your head a crown of ash
that burns like justice in the night,
as black sheep and no one else can lead us in this fight

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