I chose you my people
To suffer through fire
I it was who loved you
As you struggled in the mire
The sting of oppression
Only kindled your desire
To see what lay beyond
The walls I laid to waste
Through centuries of wandering
I watched you unappeased
Through famine and disaster
Sought to bring you to your knees
When at last you answered
I promised you a home
Years in the desert
Again you were alone
The homeland stolen from you
Yet still you turned to me
Petrified the awful truth
Destroyed by history
For two thousand years you fought
To safeguard a dream
The kingdom a reality
Broken by your screams
The temple was built at last
Carved from blood stained stone
Raised of ruins and ancient songs
Gold and soil a conflict zone
I tried then to comfort you
Your pain I couldn’t ease
My hands bled as I listened
To your impassioned fading pleas
I wish that I could bring meaning
To the evils you have known
Show you that man has learned
From the sand riddled with bones
Show you a world of justice
Of love as yet unknown
Yet the man I have created
My love would still forego
Forgive me my children
I would not have it so
For profit wrought in pain
For power etched in blood
For all, forgive me
You gaze unflinching as the bell tolls
Wallking to your death
Lit by the halo of eternity
Copyright Fran McNicol circa 1990
