Intervention (Blood Has Been Shed)

never asked you for a thing yet you pushed me aside on bended knee I served and that day was the birth of a slow death defiler I was meat at your table I would pay not to fall from your grace my blood and my tears were tokens I was waste to be expelled to you I was just a number forgotten on the chopping block my blood flows like any others to find pleasure in my disgrace you held my life in your hands your exceptance the air I breathe day after day I always wonder will I exhaust myself from this effort cursed to an existence of being drawn to you grant me tomorrow or let me die your expectations grip my throat and choke my very life everyday that you appear I succumb to your pleading will this be the day of intervention?