Thursday, August 15, 2013

The martyrs

On shattered now the palms of them
that fight for anger, tears of hate
why cast a life in bitter waste
why condemn them now to this fate

They march or fight they burn and plight
why ever so the damage done
can simple words your deeds undo
the sin swamped no price atone

Their faces with the pain of death
the anger gone, their wrath abate
why cast you down upon this tome
the names that you annihilate

As if by some hand swept clean
your guilt, their blood, the ground abates
why cast your lot in such a way
why murder, plot, and steal away

The lives of those just so full of pain
when one man clashes steel to vain
and this world dies a little fate
for shattered now on palms of them.


- Trish 2013

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