Stigma - Odes of Ecstasy

His disease, their horror

The eternal prejudice

Towards the unknown

Transformed his life

Into a nightmare

So capable of drinking

The wine of monotony

And demanding an Honorable death next to His generation

All they offered him

Was the drink of slander

His personal stigma

The cry was fake

But so frightening

His spirit wasn’t there

When the steel entered his body

They will continue to Desecrate his grave until

Dust is the only remain

But he isn’t there, he is nowhere

The martyr had stopped before

It (really started)