Recon
for every collar a leash
My own will be done, generously granting martyrdom. Those on high are lower than the buried dead. Invert their sacred symbols. Sharpen the wood for use as weapons. Mock and ridicule the pretenders. If theyâre the beginners, weâre the enders. Unbridled ire for those of righteous reign. Silence the voices of the cattle choir. Gather their defiled remains and throw them in the fire. Those on high are lower than the buried dead. The timely death of foolish wishing, itâs no secret that Iâm hissing. At the eulogy Iâll be laughing. At the burial Iâll be missing. My own will be done, generously granting martyrdom, to bear the whip splitting pious flesh, to be a lion in the coliseum.