A Sonnet Pondering
There on a mound a crime today is born
How can you build there with unbridled trust
To this day, citizens from hell can scorn
Preponderance of evidence, shows lust
Those left behind beneath the grass are lost
Each sentient soul sold to the lot of grief
Left overs are we who now know the cost
Forged over millenniums as wanton thieves
You are not poisoned, prisoners of deeds
Where each breath is but a reflex taken
Through time we seek out levels for our creed
As clarity finds heaven an awakening
On a breeze, criminals hang there from trees
With strange ideas of freedom, being free
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