I wrote this poem after the chaotic events of Charlottesville, Va, in an attempt to give word to the pain and anger I've felt regarding the situation. It may not be as encouraging or hopeful as most of my poems are, but I feel it gives voice to the frustrations of many, as well as the anger I've felt regarding the loss of life, and terror that this nightmare has caused. I pray that the truth will be revealed, and that the enemy's schemes will stumble and fall. When we the people become blinded by rage and hate, what good can we truly accomplish? May God help us see this.
I'm treading on this type-rope of my life,
I confess my actions are sometimes wrong.
Like balancing my hopes on a razor sharp knife,
I promise you'll miss me when I'm gone.
Don't think twice, just justify your actions,
They were going to be wrong anyway.
Can't you see unity splitting into factions,
It isn't long until your whole plan caves.
What were you even trying to prove?
With this bloodied mass facade?
Get 'em all in step, but can they move,
Under the masks of your traitorous parade?
Blinded, stumbling, singing allegiance,
Crumbling, bleeding, losing hope.
Fighting for nothing despite their grievance,
All the while tying their own rope.
Darkness swallows the silent screams,
In the end, your actions fade to black.
Your vindictive plots are tearing at the seams,
Helpless, no one can ever mend the crack.
Your words, they cannot break me,
Even when a thousand fall beside.
Regardless, I have already been set free,
From the sickness that tore me inside.
Your lies can only feed the sheep,
Who blindly follow deception.
What can wake them from their sleep?
Lost, in a war of vile inception.
I pray that light shall be shed,
On this scramble of hatred and rage.
For in vain, have the heroes bled?
Oh God, bring healing to this age!
I'm treading on this type-rope of my life,
I confess my actions are sometimes wrong.
Like balancing my hopes on a razor sharp knife,
I promise you'll miss me when I'm gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment