The Cry

The Cry

( Lines inspired by a fragment from The City of the Scorpion, being Chapter 45 of my book, Angel War. )

If born with no flaw
would we live forever more?
I was stopped on my walk.
My soul yearned to be saved from solitude.
Though I could speak, I would seldom talk.
Looked over a brown wooden fence,
down on a school playing field.
Above a far trench, I heard a cry,
higher than the cry of sea birds.
A tear broke through my eye,
for in the cry I heard words.
Not made by my mind,
they came from outside.
We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now.
They were the words I heard, it seemed to me.
They hurt my heart, disturbed my soul.
Closest to a seagull’s cry, it was to my ears,
one blown far from its flock,
away from the cliffs of the coast
by the wind of a storm.
Lost above the middle ocean waste,
it pined to be on the flight path to its nest.
We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now.
From the sky, the cry came again,
now like the cry of a child who fled from a fire.
We do not yearn to go.
We do not pine to leave.
Why should we want to go
when paradise is our home?
Here we came with our angel kin.
From our Honeycomb Mountain home we flew.
With gnarled edged swords, we fought against our great betrayer.
We went too far down,
as our elders told us not to do.
We went too far down,
but we had to see.
We dug a hole,
so we could see.
We went too far down but we found a ledge.
And we were brave. We looked down.
We had to see
the Citadel in Michael’s scarlet flame,
after we had fought so long
against our ancient foe we do not name.
We were stranded, afraid to be slain,
but we found a way and up we flew.
We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now.
There is a way. There is a way. There is a way.
We’re sorry now. We want to be free.
We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now. We’re sorry now.

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