Three stood knowing time was growing near
When they would have to make their loyalty plain;
To idol kneel or to endure the flame,
Action, or inaction would make clear
If they would submit to pagan king
Or if they would invoke his wrath so vain;
Like children to their ancient faith they cling.
From the idol their worship they withheld,
To not betray their people or their God.
They watched as the approaching soldiers plod,
The coming troop they knew their doom did spell.
Again refuse to kneel to idol king,
Bound, they stumbled forward at the prod,
Holding faith in face of death’s hot sting.
Sitting knowing time is growing near
A posture shift I will be called to make;
To stand and sing with pride inspired, fake
Or kneel with those oppressed by hate and fear.
And yet I feel my heart divided torn;
My pride would not entirely be fake
When viewing waving symbol tired worn.
But if I'm called my nation to adore,
Then should I not her people also love
(A nation of the people not above)
The oppression of her children to abhor?
How can I hold this shred of pride I feel,
And fly with hawks circling round the doves?
How can I stand while brothers, mourning, kneel?
The prescribed
patriot’s posture now has changed
And frenzied
furnace flames no longer leap,Yet worship to the idol we upkeep,
Only symbols have been rearranged.
Beaten by your country though you feel,
Weighed by injustices that daily heap.
The one sin not forgiven is to kneel.
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