Steeped In Blood

Whilst her children brawl, in blood she’s steeped, Only able to watch and wait, And her tears are filled with floods that weep, Waiting for time to choose their fate. Right in believing for which they stand, Knowing whence they fall they‘ll never rise, Through hills or swamps or mud or sand, They’ll battle until their demise. Soon after death again they’ll meet, When arriving at heavens gate, Then eye to eye upon their feet, Understanding no longer man’s sate. Now side by side and hand in hand, These fallen brothers reside, For mother knows no difference in man, Yet still she must abide. No more color or creed, will they ever see, And no more angry debates, Just siblings again they will be, For love is truth, there is no hate.