The Sorrowful Servant

Around the sorrowful servant's neck, A collar of cowardice is worn. Its companion, a leash of submission, Truly a noose in disguise. Though his mouth is sown shut, At times they demand him to speak. But all the can be heard Are his unyielding cries. The punishments of his masters Are the follies of sloths and fury. Perhaps there could be a day soon Where he could make them wise. The over exaggerated weight of his deeds Hath become a burden to heavy. His rage grows in solemn secrecy, The time is nigh, now finally rise!