Them justice brings false humanity
Odds to perish thyself insanity
Often answers those that befall
To question or not to him that calls
A living disguise untold identities
Truth to dare stole thy sanities
Ought to be spoken through what it is
To question or not to them who cease.
Judge:
Them judge scorns thou selfless thee
“Who is he that disobeys thy law,
fear who seeks them justice claws,
for he that lies to thee lies himself,
what justice calls what justice falls.”
Accused:
Oh, free thy seas of mock and stones,
To them that sees blind by ignorance,
To them that shouts at me shouts himself,
For i who’s foes be myself,
Let my disgrace not be to death,
But the lies both held to him that speaks justice.
“Who are u that judges lies over a doubtful truth?
Whether you play or whether you fight,
You are them that disguise thyself,
From an angel cloth drove inside to a devils body.
Judge:
You dare threaten me of the words I say!
To speak slightly of you I may,
Thy seas of mock that seth upon those of wicked,
Thy shadows of brick shall be torn to pieces,
You are a criminal that distinguish thy favor,
Whom that law kept thy answers,
For you shall reap what you’ve done,
Justice is and will never lie,
Yet you aggravated your own selfish sigh.
Accused:
Threaten did I your majesty of high,
But the guilt that I endure after the things I did,
Claims a criminal to He that cease,
For I that sees the blood in my hands,
Mixed with tears to them that stand,
And who are you to judge me of what I‘ve done,
But ignores thee my deed to good I planned,
Your hands are dirty as I to speak,
Them judge that judge me for one thing that seek.
Judge:
You speak with anguish and sincerity,
But you will pay for taking a sacred gift,
The life of other that you yourself judged,
Be guilty of murder my fellow sinner,
But I with sincere apology tells you this,
My judgment may sometimes be unjust,
But the hearts of them that righteous brings,
Be cleansed by the blood of your selfless thee.
For I that questions your innocence,
Be innocent man that wakes your whole desire,
To be free by paying the years you owe,
To question or not an ally or foe.
For justice is justice whatever whoever;
And truth is truth that covers innocence forever.
Accused:
It is shame for I that did one mistake,
Took the blame to all courts law,
But shame on you who talks about justice,
Yet tore me through power you vested,
Oh thee my selfish shrine,
Shines above your ignorance through mine,
And for what this quarrel be, For u are still higher than me.
Judge
Now a man that sees me like I own thee,
But thee compared to me is not worthy,
For I who’s been given authority,
Declares that justice isn’t for me to judge,
but the doings of man to them that stab.
Accused
Ha!Ha!Ha! How funny you talk about justice,
Yet thee that beholds the hammer,
beholds the power to give me punishment!
A hypocrite you are my beloved
For you talk about justice redundantly,
Yet mocks me about the state I’m being,
You are a man in a mask that hides thy face,
A face of evil that lurks beyond them graves.
Judge:
You madman, a murderer whom thee u are,
Who is he that talks me back about justice,
But you yourself doesn’t even know its meaning,
You talk like a beast deceiving the people,
And when they trust you
You’ll just consume them and feast on them,
Now who are you to question me,
Of what I’m doing and what I’ve done,
For you are nothing but a simple thief
He that destroys justice will be destroyed,
and you that shouts justice,
will be consumed by your own demise.
Accused:
I guess this will be my end,
Feel my anger and compassion,
The wrath I hold to your justice claims,
for I will die starring at you,
with all my blood I spit on you,
because you my judge are nothing but a coward.
Judge:
A coward am I restoring justice,
To you and the things you have done,
For death will be watching,
And I will be laughing,
No one is more than justice,
Even I am less worthy of it,
Now you will face your own mask,
and feel the coldness of dying,
You are no longer accused….
I, as your judge declares that you are guilty!
Brought to thee thy pavements grave,
Tied and covered by cloth with pave,
Took a knee with thy head on wood,
With a rushing blade to cut for good.
Poetry and Art Is Life 