Iscariote - Implore

Nailed to the cross

That points up to the sky

Crucifixion of ideals

Rot slowly and dies

A mere attempt

To obtain the demands

Whilst the dismal

Burns from inside

Sore feelings

Of those seeking life

Guilty of all pleasures

Hide in their lies

Deny it

two more times

Thirty silver coins

Sold convictions

Eradicated heart

Bigotry biased

No one else left behind

Sore feelings

Of those seeking life

Last of a breed

Everyone has a price