Burdened

A scapegoat born, a name to curse,
To bear the weight, to take the worst.
A fool too meek to make a stand,
Their tangled tongue, their trembling hands.

A whispered plot, a cruel design,
To shift the blame, to buy us time.
We light the fire, we fan the flame,
And carve their fate with scorn and shame.

A fragile mind, too frazzled, weak,
Their words dissolve before they speak.
We dress them up in villain’s guise,
A mask of sin behind their eyes.

A nervous glance, a stammered plea,
Drowned out beneath the roaring sea.
The crowd demands, the sentence calls,
One must suffer, one must fall.

The stage is set, the tale is spun,
The guilty walk, the fool is done.
Their name now lost, their face defamed,
Azazel bound in guilt and shame.

Through whispers dark and quiet sighs,
Their memory fades, the echo dies.
But still the world will find anew,
Another soul to doom and chew.