The
Unbroken Law
My
church is built of open space,
No walls of anger, form, or race.
My ritual is the quiet hand,
Extended to a broken land.
I
hold no ledger of the wrong,
No bitter chord inside my song.
For hatred is a heavy chain,
That binds the killer to the pain.
Let
others build their fort of spite,
And lock their doors against the night.
My creed is light, my law is free:
To love the world that wounded me.
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