They seized the poor,
They left them on the soil,
They lit up the skies
With fire and oil.
They hang the sister,
They stone the brother,
They beat the infant,
They imprison the mother.
They greet the violent morning,
They spit on Holy Ground.
They churn the oceans with twisted fingers,
They tie up the unbound.
They burned the witches and the saved,
They forced the cross to topple down,
They slayed the innocent, the guilty and naive.
They ran to the hills and shattered the Crown.
They broke your tired hands,
They scored and scarred your skin,
They see the pain drip down the walls,
They watch the ascension begin.
They chased the sea to the horizon's limit,
They smothered the sky with blood and water,
They split the clouds like they slit the throats:
They left no sun or daughter.
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