The Star-Strangled Banner: America The Crucified Poem by Ryan John Payne

Oh say, can you see, by our doom's early plight,
What some pompously hailed as the twilight of freedom,
Whose stomped stripes and scuffed stars through a perilous blight,
O'er the Internet watched, were incessantly streaming?
And the liberals' mad glare, while in anger they stare,
Gave proof through the press that the people don't care;
O say, does that strife-spangled banner still wave,
O'er the land of the thieves and the home of the knave?

On the shore dimly seen, while conservatives weep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread violence opposes,
What is that which they seize, with a glowering leap,
As it frightfully shows, half congeals, half exposes?
Now it catches the gleam of a past fancied dream,
In accolades strange, reflecting the media's stream:
'Tis the star-strangled banner, how long will it wave
O'er the land of the peeved and hopelessly depraved?

O thus be it ever, when true justice would win,
To defend our God's laws against world desecration!
Pandemonium would cease for those left in this land,
To praise God, Whom we trust, without retaliation!
Then worship Him we must, it's His freedom or bust,
We could never let go, for in Him we still trust!
And the star-spangled banner would once again wave,
Since this land should stay free as the home of the brave!