Those that came before
shot by arrows and trapped by lures
forged the trails all now walk
without regard for the lost

walls made of glass ten feet thick
doors shaped with sharpened thorns
these avenues were their path
as egos pressed to hold them back

conservatives exclaimed strong ire
as the bodies fell by the side
intolerance had a long hand
exacting martyrs drenched in blood

the price was known in those years
and then forgotten with banners hung
in the halls where glee persists
while memories collect the dust.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20190722.