Loss
Something sinister tells
In dark deeds that around us swell
And spell a presence drear
Demons festering the air
Men have grown cold
And callous is the norm
Of our times
And we shrink from it in fear
Without anger to say
What is being lost is dear
Is this silence
A sign of some culpability
Somthing about human vulnerability
We cannot confess again
Despite the hell of private pain
Is this the holy spirit leaving
And we so busy
Do not know
Cannot know
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