Tears Of The Martyrs Poem by George Samuel
Tears Of The Martyrs
The blade spills blood'
And anguish the souls threshold!
To feed the earth...
A living glutton'
That's never rotten;
Or forgotten. What does it pay?
To endure what must be heard, pray.
For those that bear it hard '
For those without a heart;
And those with a broken spirit.
Unfairly crushed without limit!
Cry out soul,
Let out a shout at midnight,
Till justice awake from slumber and wipe your tears.
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8/26/2026 5:15:32 PM # rel_20260826T082754Z_99b456e
