Brave sermon speaker in a troubled land
Born to aid hearts, sooth broken man
His speech was long and filled with truth
He spoke before forsaken youth
A cry came out from the back of the croud,
The sound came on as strong and proud,
Boiling death threats and fading shrouds,
A familiar voice that they knew somehow.
"Wane not soul worn protector,
Judge and jury of vintage character.
Burned by the light that haunts me still,
Live right now or you never will."
Beams of white tore through wood and steel,
A sign of spirits' unwavering zeal.
The speaker rose into the sky,
And below him all the children died.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
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