Indeed, have ten thousand fallen down all around,
While I myself lie prostrate on blood-soaked ground;
One misstep following another, I fell without sound;
Darkness draws near ~ pain and suffering abound.
And, lo, does the deadly pestilence stalk at night,
And terror in the darkness that no man can fight!
Behold, the pale horseman with his quiver of plight,
Arrows striking the very sun to blacken all light!
Listen! Here is a mournful sound without harmony
Rising from unknown tombs in earth and sea!
Dead souls given voice in the council of eternity,
To clamour for justice denied heartless cruelty!
And now is this high refuge become my low grave?
And hope no longer lives there is Someone to save?
Must I, too, await relief but in death’s cold wave
When finally does Mercy silence the lunatic rave?
Note: Originally published sometime in the summer of 2012 and can also be found on the Slightly Poetic Slice of My Life page