Iscariote
Implore
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Nailed to the cross
That points up to the sky
Crucifixion of ideals
Rot slowly and dies
A mere attempt
To obtain the demands
Whilst the dismal
Burns from inside
Sore feelings
Of those seeking life
Guilty of all pleasures
Hide in their lies
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Deny it
Two more times
Thirty silver coins
Sold convictions
Eradicated heart
Bigotry biased
No one else left behind
Sore feelings
Of those seeking life
Last of a breed
Everyone has a price