and the lame, too, will be named

may mercy be the word to meet
every man’s lips. i beg to part the
sheep as i hold back this dying decree.
it presses firmly from tongue to cheek,
mouth made ready to feed new hope
in worry, strength lost to fight but eyes
search to find the white of flags and
innocence like a child’s. in crowds
of hate, the elder bare pride but not
the wise gather to hide behind
mistakes they have made; it burns
in their eyes and makes crooked
the lines of his prophecy’s face, hypocrisy’s
fate has been made but waits only
to know a love that grows from abandonment.
betray the blessings we’ve been given
because we know not what it means
to be forgiven; instead, to be victim
we’ve made our decision and sacrificed
the sincerity of vision. be it grace that blinds
but give it to all with the heart to feed
the mind. may the meek subside to leave
behind temptation and tame our fear inside
in exchange for fire—a flame to light
the love that lives for the lame to know
one name, his compassion, its decision
to be made new by will and weight
to overcome. the cause to this pain
keeps its name within one word to search
for a sum to make sense of its parts
by process of bleeding and breathing.
he knows only one name and they
call him freedom.

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2 thoughts on “and the lame, too, will be named

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