Antipathy and the Field of Blood
Alan Brucke, Andrew Glasscock
Small, weak, living in a shell
Mind racing with fear of the unknown
And I asked the air to be my father
Saw the others do this too
I grasped at straws, and all His people answered
"His blood be on us and on our children"
I was so afraid of their power over me
I tried to hate them
To fashion a sword out of my mind to keep at the ready
Thoughts to end it all still just as sharp
Betrayal, and the guilt of that, seeping through my armor
Hatred of others, of the world, and of goodness itself
But love grew inside that well of sorrow
A seed that would germinate in the depths of my being
And see to it that my fears would begin to fade
A man once doubted
The world moves on
The world moves on