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Friday, September 08, 2006

A Lament for Darfur

The Blood of Abel

The world spins down,

Falling in its perpetual arc

Toward a dark and empty grave.

We scramble and we plead,

Violently at times,

Yearning for peace,

For an escape from the stubborn incursions of hell

Into our war-weary realm.

We are glory and light,

The children of the dawn,

But the crimson river of a crucified race

Testifies against us,

Crying out from the slumbering earth.

And the One in heaven hears.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I like this. It may even be one of my favorites among your poems. Is there no end in sight to the violence there? It seems to just go on and on.

Josh