I feel the weight of a week of seven days upon
in mere hours-
of inhumanity only imagined
in books, in tales of horror-
that seemed lost
lost to someone else’s life
to some other time
to history-
to a shiny stone with a brass plaque prone
and flags waving silently in a park I walk through;
grainy film with non descript faces- I view;
but no,
for as the gates of pure hell flung open
the rampant slaughter of animals for pleasure
dancing-rage blood in the streets rejoicing
for we will not see the end of this
our shame
for we will not see the end of this
in our days here,
but we must, persevere
even in ,that, face
of that which brings the ends of the earth-
RISE!