They cried heresy but knew not the meaning of the word,
it was an alien concept to them,
One they felt no need to even attempt to comprehend,
For they knew of course,
They knew the truth and it was limited to only them,
A solemn injection of reality was enough however to shatter the faith of one of their number,
And so he stood,
Tied against a stake feeling flames of blind hatred licking his feet,
They cried heresy but he knew that they were wrong,
He was a good man.
They could not see it however,
How could they with spiritual blindfolds wrapped so tightly around their tired eyes?
It was his time and he knew it,
Time to say goodbye to his people as they turned against him,
Crucified for the sake of their truth.