On this day in May, our hearts are heavy again
On the souls of men, the stains of hate remain
On calls from the grey realms of shadows
Hatred throws love out of the windows.
Suddenly again, a startle from a bang
To become the sway for crows to hang
Ten salts of the earth, delivered on Herod’s salver
But their resolve shall never ever waver.
Somewhere in the wind like the femme fatale
Agape left without a forwarding address
For certain corrupt men have torn her garments
And strip her of her voice while she laments.
Until men turn to ashes, evil must keep its spear.
But at dust to dust’s hour, the stains will reappear
To confess the true ugly colors of force of prate
Let not thy tonsils bring forth vile screams of hate.
Somewhere else in the wind, before bullets run another relay, let us all live in love.
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