poetry by Mercysmine 
  Ginger Knobloch

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The succor of their refrain, clefts
The air of springs rebirth time
Symbol three of the Trinity, I feel
Gods presence ever so nigh, as I
Behold you take wing, beatific
To hear your soulful coo



Beckon the morning, sky adorning
Object of the creator's hand, gentle
Peaceful, harmless one, you're on
The ballet, for the hunters gun


With a heavy heart, I cast my
Vote and pray, mankind might
See this senseless folly, that
You'd be safe to coo your
Song, of your makers, grace and
Glory


I bow my head today in shame,
Your now prey for the hunters
game, called kill for thrills,
Then kill again, till your thirst
For blood is satiated, "woe" unto
You, who devalues life, God counts
Each one, that falls from the sky.








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