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Reflect, upon the mood of men,
in whose hearts lie fallow;
their lives, lived in shadow’s dim,
souls in murky shallows;
standing proud, upon the life,
in decision made so follow;
the darkest, soul phenomenon,
against all else do battle.
 
The fight, is an argument,
into logic, spew words of guilt;
circled, in dark merriment,
lay destruction on the world;
languidly, the shadow falls,
life in a bitterness rebuilt;
distrust, in words felling life,
a curse, on US is hurled.
 
By day, these wicked ones,
stand to spit upon the masses;
violation, against humanity,
counts as victory blessings;
in world mind politic,
our lives humbled by these asses;
all alive ground away,
each breath, drawn repressing.
 
How to see, in mind’s eye,
the true nature of these beasts;
mute, in thoughtful speech,
none invited to their feasts;
truth, is told by critic,
caught in their fascist fleece;
in heart and soul all people,
fear, their secret police.
 
Should light be cast,
to shine upon a soul’s living half;
all could see, without doubt,
the darkness in them laugh;
light in all, does yet glow,
but not, on a shadow’s behalf;
'they’, flee as bodies fall,
struck down by heaven’s shaft.
 
Michael Darrell Walker

(2010)

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