Heavy Metal Monk

What kind of a fool do you take me for?

The lust of a monk or a troubadour

I must be the last of a dying race

What virtue is wrought from a man who is chaste?

And spiteful enough for a holy war

What kind of a man do you think I am?

A master who's failed at his own exam

This knowledge of life has become a cage

A prison where reason has turned to rage

A hawk that circles a pentagram

What kind of a face do these people see?

A creature enslaved by his inquiry

A chain of thought that will never stop

Perhaps a bull in a china shop

A monster trapped in a library

I'm caught in this race's own graveyard

I'm piecing together unholy shards

A man that died of his mental health

An age that turned it against himself

And left to gather his own reward

What ever does this world want from me?

A martyr for a moral tragedy