red it was and yellow it was and on blue
it was orange roaring loud and proud
as a lion and in long complaining columns
it was bleeding on the crowds of summer clouds
so very like adhesive

young it was and strong it was against black
it was rifle fighting lean and hard
like a madman and in epileptic fury
it was frenzied taken mean and marred
by the dark moon legions

held it was and killed it was and in shadows
it was weary buried dumb and cold
like a stone and in an pauper’s unmarked grave
it was laid to rest gone save for the common hold

Ian David Arlett
of the twinkling congregation

red it was then dead it was but in time
it was sly climbing tall and fierce
as an eagle and soon led on dew
it was again brought to light a ball to pierce
the tyranny of night like a Saviour Resurrected

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