11.2.17

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the Benches have risen
and spoken their firewall
against the whirlwind of injustice
one more time

but the Hounds abound
the fresh scent of justice is too strong
and the tender flesh of freedom is so plush

these stand their ground and growl
the frenzy in their souls birthing hatred in their eyes
wanting their fangs to tear into her heart
and suck her life

but the Benches standing tall have stared them in the eye
their hands are free of fear like a calmed sea
that has weathered many storms
the blows of the wind ceaseless
and yet hearing a song
“This too shall pass”

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