Slaves Of The Night Poem by Joseph B. Isaac

All the infants sold tonight,
Are asked to stand in a line;
Snow is falling, wind is blowing;
They keep on marching to keep them warm.

Black or white, cannot be said,
From head to toe they are covered in blood;
Their heads are drilled, eyes are holed;
They keep on marching to keep them warm.

They know their mother, they know their father,
They know their faces and know their names,
But they don't know why they are out in cold;
They keep on marching to keep them warm.

They are neither soldiers nor prisoners,
Just slaves sold to the night,
Waiting in line to be taken to the sky;
They keep on marching to keep them warm.

They are slaves of the night, holding a light,
Shining in the sky, guiding travelers of the night;
Open up your eyes and see their plight;
They keep on marching to keep them warm.

Slaves of the night, cannot sleep at day,
They have to weave your dreams with their tiny hands
And make your wish, soon come true;
They keep on marching to keep them warm.

Note: Those infants thrown in to darkness from the womb of their mother being deprived of light of this world become light itself and shine forth for the needy and the greedy alike.With no rights or rest they are just slaves of the night. If you look at the night sky you can see them marching, to beat the cold of the night and the chill of the hearts that ditched them.(Please understand this line as: They keep on marching to keep them(themselves) warm