Iscariot

A slave to the will of God,

The serpent twisting his arm,

The prophet leads him into light,

Blood money only brings damnation.

Oh! Iscariot what has become of you?

You see when all others have been blinded,

You've been branded a traitor,

Nothing more than a servant of Jews.

Your cold hand warmed by the messiah,

He speaks of love when he should talk of war.

How will love spark the great movement?

This pacifist cannot lead a nation.

The devil spoke to the man through a kiss,

He brought upon the destruction of this lord,

You see the first of his blood spill,

To think, this was always God's will.

A tree, a final resting place.

A noose tightly wrapped around a fragile neck,

Really a traitor, or a simply a martyr?

A slave to the will of God.