Innocents
Blood on the grimy snow,
Tears on a faded shawl,
Flesh for the status quo
Spat from a marble hall:
Mothers that did not know,
Martyrs that heard no call,
Names scratched in shadow
On a tottering wall.
Death, calibrated, slow,
Strikes in a lethal squall,
Hovels reduced to a glow
Mock those on whom they fall:
Murder the world came to know
Power could not forestall;
Exiled so long ago
He still dies for us all.