Soulsick

I ache inside by solemn knives

With wondering of tragedy;

Where does a woman, lonely, bide

As her killer stalks a block behind?
Where, distraught, do orphans, fraught

With dangers congregate?

To judge and buy or steal and lie

Just for a chance at life’s embrace?
Why, wicked, do the people live

And prosper; untouched, fine?

Why, righteous, do the prayers die

While Death our children kiss?
Why, evil has our throats bleeding

And somewhere, we’ve all given up

Why do we cry when eyes are dry

And laugh through rivers of blood?
Redeem us once again, o Light

And let us not despair. 

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