Historical Perspective

I am the voice, of the voiceless
I do what I say and say what I mean
This is my choice, I must confess
I am the Savior of the masses

The masses, swelled in number
To hear the words I spoke
I would pass, hearts no longer encumbered
They fell on their hands and knees

Their hands, raised high
Reaching for the hem of my garment
“No man, cometh to the Father but by me
The way, the truth, and the life”

The sands of time wisped by to a much bleaker State

I am the voice, of the voiceless
I do what I say and say what I mean
This is my choice, I must confess
I am the Savior of the masses

The masses, swelled in number
To hear the words I spoke
I would pass, compassion in slumber
They raised their hands

Their hands lifted up and to the side, their heads hung low
Flags hung from the sky it seemed
as the tanks rolled through Paris
I couldn’t help but smile

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