Dogma

We sat by the fire
and listened to ancient tales
that clouded our brittle minds
with dreams of truth in our hands
with dreams of truth in our hands.

We stepped on the flowers
of gardens that they had blessed.
Fell, burn sacred trees,
ashes, hateful breeze
ashes, hateful breeze.

We gathered around the flames
singing the chants we’d learnt.
Ashes, grieving tears.
Strangers, begging please
Strangers, begging please.

Hit the gavel,
call it justice.
Hold the torches 
and start the fire
and start the fire.

We sat by the fire
and listened to ancient tales
that clouded our brittle minds
with dreams of truth in our hands
with dreams of truth in our hands.