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Flight of the Black Crow
By Greg McNeal
Prepare your heart
For what I have seen:
Things to not talk about
New and obscene.
I’ve seen old things die young
And new things die mean.
The story has been re-written
Or so I am told.
Wounds that won’t heal
And leaders so cold.
Suicidal children
And angels whose spirits are torn.
Men who are above it all
On their mountain tops sit
Their dedication and priorities to God
So obviously split.
Oh the things I have seen
As I soar through the sky:
A generation lost
And covering the lie;
Cities baptized by fear
Than by water
Misleading its children
Like lambs to the slaughter.
I’ve seen locust feed
Leaving fields bare dry
Still more moisture left in the field
Than your humanity’s eye.
Wisdom sold out for stupidity and prize
Voices of hope cry out -
Their actions denied!
As I fly through the sky
And perch where I may
I see my black brothers
Themselves they do slay -
Praying to God
To one day take the pain away
Never realizing
Within you He hid the way.
Stop dying right now!
Live to fly another day!
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