Ice Drop Tears

You have heard
and even seen
what has been
by lips touched and glowing,
red hot from the coal
freshly plucked
from Holy Fire.

Yet the revolution
has ceased to burn
or turn
turns instead
what has been
into has-beens

cold and frightened little children
weeping ice cube tears
for Syria
and Afghanistan
and Iraq
and more…

Icy numb with hopeless care
weighted down with righteous indignation
a divine burden wrought of steel
carried through our hopes
and dreams

But for this,
caged freedom sparks distress
tempers bonds
sharpens words made flesh
chisels futures without
and beyond
our stoney eyes
and resolutions

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