where is the shout, the worldly disgust,
the horror, the uproar, the outrage,
where is that voice that claims that it must
protest against violence and rampage?

where are ye peace-lovers, ye pursuers of love
ye headlines of feigned dismay
ye banners of rainbows, of flying doves
ye marches, protests of foul-play?

machetes and axes in vicious slaughter
slice up three lives in midday
life flows away, blood flows as water
and nary a voice or a bray