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Saturday, April 30, 2011

Crowd

I was brought to Judgement
By words of the Lord
And against my chest
The painful pounding
Is going quicker
For the siren's call

From above the hill
The rising crowd
Moves in a walk
Of a mournful sound

Faces fall
Wry, dry and heavy
And eyes glare
At a sound so steady

They move along
In a foggy trace
Their shackles making
Lines in the sand
Walking and waiting
For the final stand

I close my eyes
Then open them again

I find them all
Standing still
Wax-like postures
Of a handy drill

Their hands were reaching
Out in hope
Their mouths were saying
A word of plead
Their eyes now stare
Into the emtpy void -
A forsaken breed.

There were many
There were few
There was only One
Now they lie in the darkened dust
And then there were none.

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