His Beloved Outcasts

Their ideas are buried behind regal frames of theives that hide, People might spit on their name with pride, Pushed to the back by the filth that bribe, As they choke when the sand of fate falls through time, How could they see the lake of their inner peace ? When these leeches drag them to the marsh of unease, Still they choke innocently as it's hard to either move or realize, Bedridden they are in a coma with helpless tears that paralyse, Even religion discriminate them impure, As their wisdom was crystal pure, Floored but couldn't forget their overture, As the selfish think their actions act as a cure, Despite they are forgotten behind the sand and frames, Despite they choke in the marsh of unease and blames, Despite they are discriminated as impurity, Despite their life is becoming an example of obscurity, Remember his hands of light will excavate you from the bottomless sand and fate, His presence shall extirpate the tooth of any leech from their dwelling crate, Overseeing the truth of your wisdom when you're still the victim, The totem of omnipresence becomes his approaching signum, Resurrecting the rusting statues that became nest of bats, As they were always his beloved outcasts. AMEN✝