The jackboot rise of fascist hate
Offends me in my soul
As I watch men prevaricate
And clamor for control—
Is there redemption man may tap
To pull apart from it?
Or must we live, a great mishap,
Until disaster hit?
I shudder when I realize
The kind of beast I am,
A biped false, engaged in lies,
Framed by mind’s diagram.
Would that the end might come, and we
Cease from this way of living
Absorbed in our mendacity,
Perpetual conniving.
I cry to thee, who dost not hear,
To offer up thy balm,
To stem and stanch my restless fear
And craven conscience calm.
[Note: the first line directly quotes from a poem by LJ McDowall]
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