The Martyr’s Promise

Believe me, I am innocent,
Under fire of mistaken persecution
Engage my heart not in anger,
But sorrow for the blind,
Agony for confusion,
And longing for the fulfilment
Of our true intentions
Though I stand here in skin
Suffering the wounds of my punishment,
My heart sings to you in joy
And in its vision, I feel comforted
While outside, I must endure
As punishment demands
Standing still upon my own colour,
With limbs torn and flesh burned
A small sacrifice to prove
My resolve to help you
As your beloved Queen and loyal servant

Without a word or complaint
So shall I reign into my grave…