there is a rage
a blinding void
urging the end
what i was, what i am, and what i will be

Poverty keeps on asking questions
fear where do we go from here
in the wake of new orders
deep trenches and high borders
poison ivy dawning
olive branches thorning
it seems faith
only has a future
for yesterday's butchers
and today's abusers
unseen God
please
deliver us
from all these
accusers.