Comments about Charis Varnadore
Lord, the city is flooded
with affliction and despair,
rats gnaw at the discarded
dead while the children are numb
and go unfed.
Haughty men above it all
fly over in planes - distant -
as the dying are left,
Only in your compassion, O Lord,
is slow relief in sight as angels
near and many far sacrifice the gift
you alone provide.