The Aggressors

Ahead a-top the barren hill
With grave of child in tomb
Taken ahead his time by hate
His soul snuffed in full bloom

His life taken so miserably
By words, by deeds, by they
Who persecute and strip him down
In the clear light of day

They, that twist deep in the knife
To maim and pierce his heart
Neglecting him and calling names
Sheer spite that they impart

Their inner loathing quite outplayed
No kindness; so forlorn
Compassion gone as they beat him
And steel his future dawn

And who are they by venom’s might
With terror constantly
The aggressors who wear him down
Til he hangs from that tree

Get a rope! Hangman’s noose hanging from the tree at the ‘ghost town’ of Corlew’s Silver City in remote Bodfish, CA (kernvalley035xy) (Photo credit: mlhradio)

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