Charred black
Is the song sung on this holy day
This holy day where once again the books are burned
This day where mankind's blackened heart
Rises to flame

Can all our books teach us nothing?
Not the impeccable beauty of delicate wing?
Not the sweet wash of higher tides?
Not even the secrets of open hearts?

On this day, the hearts are ripped open
And charred black
Twisted to absurd shapes
Like so much cheap plastic

Is this what comes of the laughter & sweetness
Of the toil & pain of the birth of knowledge?
Charred black pages
The obscene art of melted icons.

Somewhere in that dark heart of destruction
Must be the shadow of a song
Some sweet piece of humanity
That opens wide in awe
On holy days
That are brightly shining
With something near to hope
And humankind.
 
 

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