As a child I saw
the monster beaten
back.
It had roamed the land
so long.
The people had worshipped it.
The mighty had bowed before
its power.
They thought it
an angel.

They placed a crown
upon its head
carved from the skull
of a slave. Its sceptor
a whip.
They opened the doors
of their hearts
to it.
It became both god
and king.

But the doubters among us
doubted, and those
whose children were devoured
cried for vengeance,
and some dared to
hold up the mirror
to their faces,
and they saw the evil
that dwelt within
their hearts.

And another King came,
and a man whose name
had been stolen
and replaced with a mark,
and two princely brothers
who would be struck down,
and a tired woman
who would not rise,
and countless others
who would overcome.

The beast was pulled
from its throne,
though its minions
struck down the four
along with countless others
like Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner.
But more came with millions
of weak hands
and our united weakness
overpowered its strength.

And we pulled it from
our hearts, and we wrapped it
in chains, and we locked it
away,
though we still heard
its cries, and its stench still
filled the air,
and its venom poisoned
subterranean pools in which
its followers submerged themselves.

And then there came
an ancient warrior
who had himself been
locked in a cage.
And he saw the awful power
of this awful thing.
Just a touch of this venom
and I shall be king,
and he used it to strengthen
his warriors.

But they slipped away
from him,
and they fled to
the beast,
and they thought it was
an angel,
and they heard its howls
as angelic music,
and its lies
as golden truths.

They will break
the locks.
They will bend back
the bars.
They will gnaw the chains
with their teeth.
They will free the monster
that they think
an angel, god,
and king.

And he will again devour
the land,
and his poison will poison
our children,
and he will again crawl
into our hearts.
And flaming crosses will again
fill the night
as dead men dance, hanging
in the magnolias.