To my left I hear the rise and fall
Of stunted, shallow breath.
To my right I hear the harrowed call
To save our hope from death.
Amidst shattered glass, with ragged gasps
On concrete stained with blood
We dying lay with prayer book clasped
To chests where bullets bud.
Once pristine white, now sanguine red
Our mantle, once our shield
Now tattered, maimed; the fabric bled.
What did our prayer yield?
The darkness creeps, the curtains close
Dim our eyes, snuff out the light
This waking nightmare only to pose
One question through the night.
Many have lain down to die,
to sleep,
And sleep, perchance to dream.
But all the slumbering hearts will wake
From our soul’s silent scream.
Please, all you slumbering hearts now wake
From our soul’s silent scream
