The sins of my father,it covers me.
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I am blinded as a vail.
The cries of my mother,do not comfort
me as My hands reach out from hell.
The souls unraptured,on their tongue,
as they confess on judgement day,
the constant here after of punishement,
for hardships children dismay.
Let not the shoulders,of a truism be held,
for as the rising sun,least not a soldier who
is in this war,understand what they have done.
Call out they say ,for the hour is neigh,
that we should pass this chance,
for here in the heart of our own lies,
was our only advance.
The horse,it has crossed over,
as it straddles the ominous sea.
Have they opened,the worms of fulsome
possiblity,for which they can't break free.
LORD have mercy,fathers and mothers.
This is our responsablity.
Mother against daughter,son against son,
father's who are gone, The kids who carry
The red rage of disappointment.
The horse of color,the children ride upon.
Is this what we want them to remember,
when we're dead and gone.