Into the weeping of once cloudless skies,
the outline of our agonies crumble
A pulverulent cry screams terror
by these morning flames.
And innocence, once laughed naively by,
falls one by one, to cold, scarlet soil below.
For every heart consumed by blight,
our impermeable fortress collapses.
God closed His eyes this ashen day,
as dusty mote stifled His light.
We leave the sword of Damocles unsheathed
this morn of death and carnage.
Kneel not before the smoking alter of defeat,
where our raped and battered convictions lie.
In sorrow’s firm embrace, we cast
the bitter tears of awakening.
Stand tall among the corpse of innocence,
Oh Nation, bound in blood!
The striking of a heart, united,
but forges tempered beat.
H. Jane Harrington
Copyright © 2001, H. Jane Harrington
Page designed and maintained by H. Jane Harrington
|Copyrighted © 2002, Tumbleweed Crossing|