How wicked is wicked,
More than barbaric
Evil that rules one nation
Trail of tears and misery
People entombed as they come and go
Dead as they rise up and sit down.
Darkness walks this land
Many women wounded, deep scars of guilt
Lies as a thick atmosphere
Deceit the air we breath
Great shadows remain in the pain of condemnation.
Fallen, a tribe, a language, a dollar, a people,
Nation that destroys new life
The smallest, most innocent child
Most vulnerable, purest expression
Baby seed of the very gift of life,
Destroyed!
There is a judge and there is justice
Such nations destined for fire
A culture of death, a country of greed
In the blinding face of true justice.
Now held accountable.

Come together, join as one
Vast cloud of chosen ones
Whitest Spirit white, a parade across the sky
Triumphant flock that moves peacefully through the heavens
Lifted mercifully from this common earth
Separated from death and destruction;
True peace rules the few, earth remnant
Confidence sails from above-
In famine, bread in abundance;
In driest desert, streams of fresh water;
Near shallow pools of human filth and violence
Yet, clean, unspotted garments and minds.
Souls always renewed
Heads lifted high
Salvation draws near
On this good day of trust.

A gentle stride with a tender heart
He walks along the narrow country road
He hikes up the scenic trails
From high places eyes see very far
Penetrate deeply into the heart and spirit
Hearing beyond the senses,
Seeing beneath the common earthly layers;
Compassion burns.
Most others sense his difference
An odd unease moves them
Eyes turn from those eyes
As dry lips from a fresh pool of water,
Cracked lips from a cool spring;
Without understanding and clear reason
An urge for distance, an anxious need for separation,
Instant rejection without any words
An unspoken threat wells up
Unease churns the gut
Division sharper than any sword
Invisible cut of the Spirit.
Good seal on one, but not the other;
"Mark of the Beast," the fruit of all hatred,
Waits viciously in the wings.

When fear breathes down our necks
Icy hand grips the child's mind,
Even friends and family
Turn to betray;
Poverty of hunger and thirst stalks this fallen land
Faith in God,
Belief in the Holy Words
Tested beyond all imagined human strength.
Cries and tears of endurance
Forced on the faces of many "Jobs," rise up,
Perseverance of Elijah in this cold, harsh place.
Police state, fascist perversion,
Many slave prison camps spring up as poison mushrooms;
Heaven as hard as the new scorched desert earth.
We run into the arms of our Father
Small the gate, narrow the road
Chosen cross of Messiah, the cup we now drink.