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The Storm

The ones who strangle
Grip tighter
Crying out:
Let go!
Let go!
And the strangled ones
Clutch tighter to life
The little that is left of it

The ones who betray
Lie softly
Whispering:
Trust us.
Only us.
And the betrayed cut
Themselves on shards
Of broken words

The orphans seek their parents
The whole of their lives
Mothers weeping for their lost ones
Fathers tearing their hair in agony
Between the greedy and the violent
And the callous ones
The whole world weeps

How dare there be such beauty
In the sunrise or sunset
Or in the blue sky and riot leaves
Or in this flower that is the cosmos
When the world is weeping

What can be built or hoped or healed
Until after the danger passes
Fortify or flee or fear
They try to expunge the past by shedding
The lifeforce of the innocent
This is not the way
Never this

Generation upon generation
Of loss and exploitation
How dare the flower
Defy the pain and
Bloom against
The storm’s
Haste

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