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Glory Falls


Glory falls around us
as we sob a dirge of
desolation on the Cross
and hatred is the ballast of the rock
which his upon our necks
and underfoot.


We have woven
robes of silk and
clothed our nakedness
with tapestry.


From crawling on this
murky planet's floor
we soar beyond the
birds and through the clouds
and edge our ways from hate
and blind despair
and bring horror
to our brothers, and
to our sisters cheer.


We grow despite the
horror that we feed
upon our own tomorrow.
We grow.

Written by Maya Angelou

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