‘Neath the burden of years he bends
Like a question mark and stares aimlessly.
Etched in his face the runnel of years
And crushing his shoulders the weight of dinosaurs.
Who lit the spark to brand life's darkest hour?
Who primed the pump to drain the spring of hope
And yoked like mule, a brother with this load?
Whose hand cracked the whip with unrelenting strokes
And battered the battery of the brain?
Who meted out the menace of the years,
Stole the music and killed the dance?
Princes, presidents, politicians and priests,
How stand you that day before the King
When through the tunnel of time
Broken faces look upon that stoop
Where time's tragedy is stamped?
What say you that day
When angels in some noble way cry Justice....
And break the silence of God?