Election Aftermath 08
Come children, sit down awhile,
Only a while. He is number 44.
Your journey to the promiseland has come
On the wings of great momentum
To where hope can live forever more.
Come children, we have been a long
Two hundred and thirty six years in this wilderness
Form the three hundred years before the red sea.
Let there be no more tears, but work and song
No more denial of mirages and history,
Come children, leave the bitter forest
To the old priests and their sick abortions,
We have measured this Sinai
Littered with holocaust of the great sea
With our faith, and we cross today
The Jordan of our hope, and we celebrate
Beyond the diatribes of logic's hate.
Come, children, you can rest
In a land where you are no more tenant or guest.
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