Black Silent Night by Nicole Terry   Black silent night on the prowl It hears the demands for more Tyranny Smoke on the wind, the trees are dancing Blood on the posts, the victim is roaming Blood Feast for the men of Labour Waiting at the door for a Savior The pulse of the streets, the lines are climbing The monstrous beat is on the air The shouts of the meek, they can see it The long drawn out warning of Her hair Jack-booted priests of Her soldiers Are searching for the spoilers of despair The polls are frequently crowded But everyone signs Her name with pride Marching guns stand up for survey To vote for the suffering caged animals © Copyright 2008 Nicole Terry ALL RIGHTS RESERVED   [back to Poems] [Sensual Poetry]