Altars of sacrifice are all around.
Candles of prayer light the ground.
Darkness recedes under great duress.
Lawyers are in full-court press.
Evil lurks and lunges until we despair;
its laughter and cheers rend the air.
Turbulent times make us all too aware
how humans carry a heavy load of fear,
how ready we are to disappear
before we lose heart
and break apart.
We are tempted to remain abed
and close our eyes against the dread
of monsters who long played dead
and hid under rocks, yet lived in our heads.
We live lives of useless malcontent
ready to blame the innocent
for acts of contrition that belong
not to the weak, but, to the strong.
Unable to admit we could be wrong,
we allow the liars to string us along.
We vote them in to replace our lost pride.
We set all reason and facts aside.
We wear red hats with slogans to hide
a weakness too fearful to abide.
When will such depravity end?
What harm done in the interim?
Soft exhales out in metered prose.
Screams trapped within a calm pose.
This is how every morning begins.
Candles relit on altars within.
Resistance alights again and again.
Another hour, another day, and then?
annarino writes 