Rays of hope...

Turned into a descending slope.

A hand raised by the pope...

With thorns that can't cope.

Seeping out of his robe,

Were diamonds of the adobe.

The people looked up to him...

Eyes yelling...

"Show me..."

"Show me the truth behind fake teachings..."

Whiplashes burned into their skin tones...

Battered and bruised in solitary confinement

White walls telling them to quit.

The light hurling out its spit.

The dark shade returns to the inside...

And glides on the kite of woe.

It's the barking nosferatu...

With toothless fangs...