Treason white is pure of heart,
When loyalties are pulled apart.
No cruller fate could be bestowed,
Upon Antigone's deepest woe.
And Becket for his faith,
Was slain by king's men in disgrace.

Treason grey skulks in murky depths
The path ahead littered with missteps.
Does Caesar cross this Rubicon,
marching forth his mighty legion?

Treason black is dark as night,
Festering wound of Luciferian spite.
Fawkes lurking in parliaments bowls.
Clutching tightly his 36 barrels.
Christ handed to his killers,
And so Judas won his silver pieces.