The Modern Exodus

The crack of whips, the mud and muck of shame,
The buffeting of hammers, stroke on stroke,
Fade out to see the whirling pillar-flame,
The blood of lambs as ransom from the yoke.
The galleys stink with famine, dirt and muck,
The negro bends with blisters on his back,
The shackles drop, he bleeds a stroke of luck,
As battle frees a nation from the rack.
Narcotics mute the screams of cheated whores,
As gunshots beat the children to despair,
Both Avarice and Lust have shut the doors,
Bold Justice shouts for blood and begs for prayer.
We sprinkle bloody lamb upon our door,
For Justice tarries now, but nevermore.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-November 21, 2009

100 Freedom

The toil of the slave, brings great distress,
The honor of the brave, does rise as one,
The man of God, on freedom doth digress,
We, free to nod, accept the Holy Son.
Yet slaves decide, their masters to obey,
The brave, described, are known by glorious deeds,
The Holy fathers here, from truth do sway,
For in our present fear, are sown the seeds!
In lands pre’su’med free, men are enslaved,
Forever bend the knee, to selfish greed,
And now the free, those known to us enslaved,
Have choice indeed, to follow or to lead.
Autonomy, known not or by the few,
Who are the free, the all, or never true?
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written October 16, 2006