Not your martyrs anointed of heaven –
The ages are red where they trod –
But the Hunted – the world’s bitter leaven –
Who smote at your imbecile God –
A being to pander and fawn to,
To propitiate, flatter and dread
As a thing that your souls are in pawn to,
A Dealer who traffics the dead;
A Trader with greed never sated,
Who barters the souls in his snares,
That were trapped in the lusts he created,
For incense and masses and prayers –
They are crushed in the coils of your halters;
‘Twere well – by the creeds ye have nursed –
That ye send up a cry from your altars,
A mass for the Martyrs Accursed;
A passionate prayer from reprieval
For the Brotherhood not understood –
For the Heroes who died for the evil,
Believing the evil was good.
To the Breakers, the Bold, the Despoilers,
Who dreamed of a world over-thrown…
They who died for the millions of toilers –
Few – fronting the nations alone!
– To the Outlawed of men and the Branded,
Whether hated or hating they fell –
I pledge the devoted, red-handed,
Unfaltering Heroes of Hell!
(Lola Ridge)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, World Poems, Soul Poems, Heaven Poems, Cry Poems, Belief & Faith Poems, Hell Poems, Good & Evil Poems, Heroism Poems, Brotherhood PoemsBased on Keywords: pander, imbecile, halters, red-handed, barters, propitiate, despoilers, reprieval, traffics