Martyr Poem by Ann Worndl

Lord take my hand
and let them understand
why I must die.
Teach them excellence
that they must strive for
the reason I must die for.
Show them gentleness,
and, in your omnipotence,
let them see why.
Rid them of violence,
let them feel strength
in their silence
but help them to try.
I ask that you blind them
to color of skin.
Dear God, unwind them
from hatred within.
Teach them to cry.
Release them from platitudes
to reach for beatitudes
that are passing them by.
I feel your hand Lord.
I have the grace to understand Lord
why I must die.