I have ruminated,
Many a time,
Over the sheer wickedness,
of men;

With guns the take life,
Not offended, unprovoked;

They fill our eyes,
With painful, hot tears:
parents and loved ones,
left to mourn and grieve;

Where is your humanity?
Elected, employed to guard life,
You take wantonly, brutally;

We shed many a tear,
daily,

The day cometh,
When this half-full gourd,
Will spill crimson content,
And hell, in all its fury,
Will have never witnessed,
Such a thing...as that;
When the night becomes day...
...and the day refuses...to be born.