Lyceum Address

In Springfield’s hall, a young man stood, And spoke of threats that none withstood— Not foreign armies, but seeds within, A nation’s ruin born of sin. Today, his warning feels alive, As fear and doubt among us thrive. The law bends under weight and strain, And justice falters, flawed, profane. Pardons shield the loyal few, While freedoms erode as tempests brew. Policies divide, compassion fades, And fragile trust in darkness wades. Lincoln’s voice still calls us back, To mend the breach, to seal the cracks. A nation’s strength lies not in might, But in will to guard the people’s rights.