As those who could recite it
Were left that day to flee from death
Which otherwise did blight it.
The Christians, who held no such creed
They slaughtered in the moment,
Nor will the memory recede,
Despair that day's endowment.
Young students all—the gunmen killed
With swift discrimination,
And so the blood of lambs was spilled
In hideous generation.
One day despair may turn to joy,
For Christian martyrs know
That murder is a desperate ploy
That happened even so.
It was the blood of innocents
In sanctity of school
The killers sought, and their intents
To be outstanding cruel.
Yet here today each bears a cross:
Repudiate the wanton loss
(From Christ comes recompense).
Let never any swear false creed
Suborning them to murder—
For though such words from mouths proceed,
They but beget disorder.
"The Prophet calls on us to do
This kind of heinous action,"
Thus speak the zealous words untrue,
But they are but a faction.
Time may not heal the wounds; yet some
Mysterious force abides:
They know not what they do—so come,
Love yet survives bloodtides.