United 93
They prayed for submission and death Gave themselves, to their dying breath To kill for the sacred cause, a holy way When from the Tao they came to stray And so it was on the flight, they killed Took over, cowed others, and stilled The voice of conscience. Not in vain, Was their possession of this aeroplane, Their martyrs death to come in glory A burning pyre, one final offertory To their god, last judgement day. In ancient times, like pagans, they Would have been seen so obsessed By their god, that it be as possessed By a spirit of evil, only to be cast out With faith, hope fighting every doubt. They felt panic, weakness, every fear Against the violence taking all so dear Captive. They learnt of the other planes Taken captive, flown onward in chains Into oblivion. At first, they just sent on Messages to those they loved, rent With grief and tears, a time of sorrow Knowing but little hope of the morrow And then they set to work to take back Their freedom, and if that meant attack So be it, for this was a day of redemption Of redeeming themselves, a vindication And they would not submit, but fight With all their will, for all that was right Against a spirit of evil, to be cast out with faith, hope fighting every doubt.
They prayed for submission and death Gave themselves, to their dying breath To kill for the sacred cause, a holy way When from the Tao they came to stray And so it was on the flight, they killed Took over, cowed others, and stilled The voice of conscience. Not in vain, Was their possession of this aeroplane, Their martyrs death to come in glory A burning pyre, one final offertory To their god, last judgement day. In ancient times, like pagans, they Would have been seen so obsessed By their god, that it be as possessed By a spirit of evil, only to be cast out With faith, hope fighting every doubt. They felt panic, weakness, every fear Against the violence taking all so dear Captive. They learnt of the other planes Taken captive, flown onward in chains Into oblivion. At first, they just sent on Messages to those they loved, rent With grief and tears, a time of sorrow Knowing but little hope of the morrow And then they set to work to take back Their freedom, and if that meant attack So be it, for this was a day of redemption Of redeeming themselves, a vindication And they would not submit, but fight With all their will, for all that was right Against a spirit of evil, to be cast out with faith, hope fighting every doubt.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment