(In Spite of) The Evil That Men Do

On a mote of dusk, suspended on
Sunbeams, was something
Foreseen, like a recurring dream
In the twilight of tides ago
Waking me from fits of sleep
To news of innocents
Made victims of the darkness
That plagues us, with the light
In their eyes plucked by villains
Broken inside
With no regard for the strings of life
Trying to blight
Everything in sight of broad daylight.

But, in spite of the evil that men do –

It is in the light
Of these innocent souls
Saved by the burning spirit
In the sky, that the shadow of their
Lives is made whole, grown
Out of Earthen echoes
Of the cosmos, aligning their
Footprints with healing rays that sing
Reflections of a golden dream:
Out of myriad
Hues casts one light of the world.

©2019 MDSHall

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