Cuffs on our wrists, dirt on our names, Truth held hostage, swallowed by flames. None of us saints, but we paid in full, While liars walked from judgment’s pull. Wrongfully named, our lives erased, Tried in whispers, never faced. But justice waits in winds unknown, And karma carves from blood and bone. We were fathers, sisters, neighbors, friends, Thrown to the dark for their bitter ends. The guilty sleep in comfort still, While time begins to test their will. Wrongfully named, left to decay, While the architects of ruin walk away. They cast their stones, then fled the scene, But truth survives where they've been seen. We were never perfect... But we didn't deserve this. Those who played god, who watched us fall, Shall be judged in this life… or not at all. They signed the papers, turned the key, With no remorse, no empathy. But the weight of lies has its own sting, And even angels clip false wings. Wrongfully named, but not alone, Voices rise like carved-out stone. No court could clear what time will cleanse, For truth strikes hard… and never bends.
