As I thought of man I felt the fact
Piercing my veneer of quiet and tact
To the softness under my carapace
That I would do any horrendous act
But for my time and by God's grace.
Murderously I would have crept
"To extirpate the thievish sept"
Within Glencoe the gloomiest place
Without a murmur as they slept
But for my time and by God's grace.
My red star bright I would have thrilled
To see my enemies the Polish spilled,
In Katyn Forest's hidden space,
Into the sodden trench and cruelly killed
But for my time and by God's grace.
Straggles of Jews would have known my hate
As I thrust them through the oven's gate
Cursed for their feebleness and their strange race
Facing my cruelty in wild spate
But for my time and by God's grace.
I would have been a modern weaver
Of patterns of death no old believer
In savage myths would dare to face
Killer of innocents tugging my lever
But for my time and by God's grace.
I would have called "Crucify
The Man is worthy that He should die!"
I would have struck blows on His face
And sealed His rising by the lie
But for my time and by God's grace.
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I'm glad to hear how this strikes you!