Mice

An inner weakness can't defeat this,

For shame this deed a favor may lead,

Down the path of trouble,

Things changed it makes it double,

For before such acts were crime,

Persecuted for the luring sublime,

Young of mind required to unwind,

Much older now but past not forgiven,

Lies and deceit the spike was driven,

The trust broken a dragon awoken,

With fire in the eyes it stood so wise,

Cast down the peasant it's life miscreant,

Set this blasphemer to burn,

Maybe then he will learn,

The burns no longer fester,

A witch hunt no longer pester,

The labels decay but inside it lay,

Now covered by ashes from petty lashes,

Whereas before it started by ignore,

Fueled to implore a hate to the core,

And once the dust seemed to settle,

The villain was welcomed little by little,

An outcast forever even in close proximity,

No approval they wore disguises just for me,

Good effort but it's plain to see,

Always a stranger never to be free,

And even though the animosity faded,

The ties were strained and ever so jaded,

The conspirators who the villain once relied,

Spoke condescending with downcast eyes,

As if one is deaf and blind,

Little they know this presence of mind,

Sharp as a razor so cleverly defined,

And otherwise in time a favor is asked,

Before stern refusal but now acquiesced,

Receiving the boon has a steep price,

For with it comes clarity sown from vice,

Like looking up from this land of mice,

Twisted mazes the catacombs of disease,

And here I kneel begging for cheese