They pried from my bent soul
Absent futures that might have been.
Every tear of sorrow
Mingled with blood on the morrow.
A life cut short
Many lives in pieces.
But my land will always be free
Whilst my heart flies in green birds.
Jerusalem will never be yours
And we,
We are the custodians.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:The PRUH, Orpington
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