The News

I journeyed up to an old worn palace,
that had expierenced spite and malice.
Where the sin of others destroyed the interior,
the unknown would walk in and consider it inferior!
The sin of murderers and stealers, and the stinch of incest,
putting good, decent, holy to rest.
If God made us in his image, a pure clean image,
why do we throw it away for wrong and carnage?
Politicians, Goths, they all look for joy and peace,
thet forget to look at the boy wrapped in gray cotton fleece.