By Miles Patrick Yohnke
© 2021 All Rights Reserved.
Warning: May offend some readers because of its subject matter. Not suitable for children.
The day broke as it crucified their greying shadow.
They lived in a shell, a ghost of a person,
Their spirit lurking like a funeral service.
They made friends and dead lovers buckle,
With words so mean and vicious,
For the devil would have cried.
Knock them down, just knock them down,
Knock their cold hearts down.
Lord, O Lord, please help us change,
End this suffering and this shame,
Sever and kill this cancerous infection.
Lay it down, slay it down, slay this dragon,
Slay these feelings of fear that have kept us so captive.
He entered, yes He came into our lives,
Like some kind of mystical being with a spade shovel.
He made us dig and He dug deep down,
And with His help they buried that beast.
He saw our infinite beauty, the beauty that we once housed.
We could look past this man-made hatred,
To see His crystal clear beauty.
From the tiniest of things,
To the sound of songs performed by the birds,
With vivid detail and the fragrance of flowers.
To the fragrant breath of pine,
Fir, cedar, and poplar trees.
From the blue, dream-weaving sky,
To the glorious breathing mountains.
We could now look past the hybrid Hummers,
And the spiritual self-degrading prefab houses,
Finished with acrylic stucco, and filled,
With steroid-inducted flat screens,
That laud mindless information and porngraphy.
O dictatorship, O technological slavery.
He led us down His spiritual aisle.
In a world where many personalities feel,
Feel more like gas-operated leaf blowers,
Where they cut like chainsaws.
He doesn't house those principles,
He only stocks love.
A love for all.
And do we remember Three Mile Island?
And do we remember those that died at Chernobyl?
And do we remember all of history's survivors?
And do we remember the Exxon Valdez oil spill?
And do we remember the BP Gulf of Mexico oil spill?
And do we remember the wildlife tally?
Those dead birds.
Those dead mammals.
Those dead sea turtles.
With His tools, and with His love,
He built us back up, and carried us.
And as we came through the dense fog,
Our will had turned to good.
Rotten like a sewer, for we had been lonely,
Like the dark cold-water flowing beneath a city.
Now with a freshness like dew laden grass,
We're growing as never witnessed before.
And do we remember the Armenians?
And do we remember those that have died in the war of the Balkans?
And do we remember those survivors?
These holy wars.
These oil wars.
These greedy wars.
These religious wars.
These wars.
These leaders,
We're all losers.
Are we alone?
We are not alone,
Oh please know that we are not alone.
For we once wore an overcoat of fear so cold,
We thought we would never be warm again.
Once running on tears like a fugitive,
On the FBI's most wanted list.
This was the inner turmoil of our own being.
The infection is gone,
Yes it was gone,
Since He has removed the dead and rotten parts.
And do we remember the spirit of Mother Teresa?
And do we remember the spirit of Florence Nightingale?
And do we remember the spirit of Helen Keller?
And do we remember the spirit of Rosa Parks?
And do we know of Kay Walls?
And through His eyes, let a new vision prevail,
And through His flesh, mend the hearts of this world.
Let a new door open to the path of respecting one another.
Let it rain upon the just as well as the unjust.
See the extremes of these human conditions,
And tear down this veil of confusion.
O Hallowed, O Hallowed became His name.
Shameless, now empowered through His unforgetful strength.
For we have faced evil straight in the eye.
We should be so glad as to have found this big box store of love and hope.
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