Cut down halcyon prayers on holy ground.
A throw back to the south's yesteryears,
and how quick the fearful responded
To calm the kindred.
Graciousness shown to the world
Could not hide the guising of
Anguish and ire.
Were it any other, the outrage would have
Been accepted and understood, wouldn't it?
Yet into a civilized lynch mob they formed,
To forgive evil before a judge.
A travesty of justice
Before it was served.
The fearful, wanting reprieve, took
The forgiveness given so readily,
And in so doing, sustained the status quo.
Were it any other, praise and admiration
For self-restraint would still be awarded, wouldn't it?
Still, melancholic is the overshadowing of
Stars and bars on the loss of beautiful souls.
