The days to come won’t differ much from days gone by,
except my turn has come to be the voice that cries.

10 Dec 2016 – An Ode to Nightfall

I stand my ground, collusion earns a curse,
and I will not defile my soul to feign
approval in the hope it fills my purse
with blood-drenched gold, such postures I disdain!
American! Your mirror shines his face
as you reflect on what you treasure most!
Once counted members of the human race –
your clenched fist raised, your ‘faiths’ deluded boasts!
And as this final day sets in the West,
the few still left fall, weeping, to their knees,
and beg for legs to flee the wolf of souls,
distrustful of their strength to face this test,
commending hidden tears to One who sees
and still weighs hearts as worth much more than gold.

America, your acorn never fell
beyond the shade where lynchings’ ‘strange fruit’ dropped.
Your fathers built basilicas in hell,
and you in turn are disinclined to stop.
You claim to be Christ’s sheep, ,but you’re His goats!
Your greed grows teeth! Insatiable, you feast
on children flesh, and still you mouth by rote
the prayers fore-father’s taught – though they were beasts!
The fence which held back nightfall now is gone,
and fools parade triumphantly through streets,
proclaiming God loves rich white men the best,
their fury set to set all rights to wrong.
God help the one who stands, such madness meets,
and bless brave souls who’ll pass the martyrs’ test.