One of M the Others
Pale shadow of the day retreats behind its saffron shroud,
Signals end of turmoil that I know so well,
Fosters faint hope for surcease of plague of pain,
From chaos that befalls my weary world.
Let realm of night wrap me in its stygian cloak,
Muffle sound of accusations made,
Absolve me from the vision of such hate,
Seek space where tolerance is known.
Such fruitless meandering of my mind,
Reflects fear of dealing with this terror,
Like mariner lost in sudden storm,
Awash in sea of demagoguery.
Does courage come at cost we fear to pay?
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