A Constanza of Empathy
Immobile in the merging crowd
The endless shuffle of their feet
Of empty souls keeping the beat
She wears her silence like a shroud
With palms interogating eyes
To love the vision we despise
Bracing the omen of dark cloud
Harbinger of what we become
She portrays the world in her sum
She lives by mercy, hope allowed
For this is but a broken earth
And time is reaping all life's mirth.
And for her sermon I'm bowed
Perhaps our laws shall soon be kind
And love makes us brave but not blind
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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