Amidst the heirs and privileged sect,
who in this land have laid their claim,
and while we’ve dozed our lives infect,
with arrogance, has brought us shame.

We claim of freedom in our land,
yet turn away those bitter cries,
of those who need compassioned hands,
while leaders hide in cloaks of lies.

Our anthem sings of bold, brave men,
yet bullies all around us hide,
among the political select
and those with killing guns divide.

We’ve sold our souls to those in power;
to those who’d rather gain than lead,
we're ransomed in our darkest hour,
to greedy black agendas feed.

Our ransomed states cannot sustain,
the beating of our separate hearts.
Unless our world can join as one,
we’ll all be forced to fight apart.

Our streets explode in wrenching pain,
exposed upon a worldwide stage.
Our voices cry, it seems in vain,
and words are filled with growing rage.

Some come in fury, some in peace,
all begging that they’d find a voice,
to lead us through this blackened eve,
and give us yet another choice.

Our lives unravel day by day,
to yet another man-made plague,
and with each morning’s cold embrace,
we brace against the fear and hate.

Divided nation, yet we stand,
along our aged battle lines, 
but those yet wise within our land,
still pray for hope and peaceful times.

The heavens cry for us below,
who struggle through the times we know,
for us to waken from this night to day.

While sadness wraps and clothes us all,
the silent death whose lives befall,
uncushioned in our quarantine we wait.

As sorrow leaks from out our eyes,
we’ve no one left to heed our cries,
though many of the world have tried and failed.

And while this nightmare plays its game,
we watch in horror and in shame,
as mirrors to our souls this virus holds.

Within the world we’ve made our bed,
amidst the plagues I lay my head,
together as we struggle to survive.

My heart, though heavy for those lost,
I struggle with the debt and cost,
within our nation’s fragile future life.

I cannot fathom, nor believe,
our current state we’ve paid much heed
and listened to the future of our earth.

Though heavy on my heart it weights
Life’s giving us some brighter ways,
to count each day a precious future life.

Your voices whisper on the wind,
a haunting sigh; your spirit’s breath.
Entrapped the day your light was dimmed;
within the spot your bodies bled.

Amidst the ruins of yesterday,
your apparitions call to mind,
and heavily they weigh upon,
the childhood heart I left behind.

When summer makes its curtain call,
and warm winds die, just after fall,
before the winter ice storms play,
and take their place upon the stage.

Your curtain lifts for just one week,
as autumn colors reach their peak
and dazzle us with one last play,
before the audience turns away.

With one last act before the night,
of bitter cold and frozen white.
That final night, you give your all,
and leave with final curtain’s fall.

At last, when autumn comes again,
it brings along its native friend,
and Summer dances on the stage
of vibrant colors, on display.

Your essence scribbled on paper,
it's pain purged from my heart.
From a single corner, a flame
ignites, incinerating your memory.

Slowly, the flame builds,
engulfing all pain;
the part of you that remains,
as you drop from my hand.

Silently, the flame flickers out,
and you turn to ashes, crumpled,
leaving only the black you are,
smoldering within the recesses of yesterday.

Washed clean by flame and water,
encircling a hole of death,
like the vultures you were,
now washed from sight and heart.