Exile

You walked among us and the many lapped at your feet
No words of comfort issued, nor ever did you speak
The laws of silence govern the ways in which we hear
And so all hope, then, is nailed to so few
It's not yours to decide
It's not ours to decide
But it's for God to decide
If we were born here to live or to die
Deep doubt drove herds and hands forlorn on their way
Disturbing echoes of the past, unchecked and unnamed
"We're all deserving of our bread" calls the refrain
"O to taste such pleasures once again"
We cross your chapels and your temples on our path
We hear your sermons and your message built to last
We see your windows and your walls built to confine
As we fade out of knowledge and of time



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