[Truth Iscariot]

Everything I create negates it's intention
I'm stuck in retention. Absorbed in affliction

Mark my indifference....
The seconds tick. Time deafening
Time defining. Time degrading it all
Minutes are the war horn
Which signal mighty Gibraltars fall

There's no soothsayer to save me
From the prison created in blunder
It's no wonder Alcatraz is unending
For a soul such as I. Even the sky above
Configured with clouds formed like shackles
Know well that the chains follow
Into the never, into the morrow.

So which warden will rule in my stint here?
Allah, Christ, or King Fear?
Their crowns - all adorned with horns
Ornaments of Torment. Clear to see
Even in the abyss of utter confinement.

I lie awake in my holding cell
Holding hell close to my chest
As my heart harks to other heathens held
Against beating breast. Forfeited will
A plight to which I can mightily attest.
I ponder, "Are we all under arrest
In the name of intentions we grow to regret?"