The Code Of Silence

I'm in my cell locked up for the night and the shadows are creeping the walls, Father said I should say my prayers but my mind is a blur with what it recalls, Today I saw a murder and it wasn't a thing they planned for me to even see, Now I'm trapped in conflict of interest as I'm sworn to my religious secrecy.

Ours is a silent order and I'm a monk whose still young and not very worldly, I swore a vow of silence what I see and hear is just all social white noise to me, I hadn't wanted to see it and now my God taunts me so to step up and speak, But I promised like in a confessional box all I witness I shall in no way leak.

But here on my pallet with the window blowing chill air over my anxious form, I keep hearing God's anger in my head - reliving the images as one hell of a storm, Wrestling with my vocation is confessing an act of treason against faith? I look so pale in my troubled state I resemble some ghost or more a wraith.

Damned if I speak out, damned if I don't, the torture goes ever on and on, Moonlight floods my soul with guilt and by morning the murderer's gone, I saw another brother killing someone who's done heinous and horrible crimes, But murder's still a sin despite a victim's background even in these troubled times.

Do I say and what good will come of it I just have this dilemma I can't keep in, I would have sooner lost my eyesight than have to have witnessed all I'd seen, And here there'll find me hanging when they come to let my brother monks out, I'll be free of my indecision but I can't live with the remorse and guilt of doubt.

In a grey bare cell of cold stone they will hush up my death and all will resume, I can leave no note or answers I guess they'll just leave me to my fateful doom, They'll bury me outside the churchyard and things will be the worse then for me, But at least the anguish tearing me apart will be forgotten as a bad day in history.