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Like the shadows in my bone,
Like my skin drenched in hope,
Accessorized with jewelled rope,
Around the neck legs and hands,
I have become a mortal man.

The sword of faith I had in you,
With emblems of love and trust,
With shades of orange and red,
Has singed my youthful pride.

But contempt tells a story,
Of a la la land soon to come,
Where the likes of you and me,
Do not have to play lost and found.

For the jurors and the jury,
We are one and alike,
For the fault is on you,
And fault falls on mine. at blame.