Civil War poem, By Mathunga.
Lincoln had warned us of what he could see:
How a house divided can never stand
In this time of great adversity,
It's the blood of our own that stains our hands
With brother turning on brother
Sever'd bonds tear the nation apart
With apprehension we regard one another
Where ice resides in our hearts
Seeds of hatred within a union we sow
Silence of winter broken by bugle of death
Crimson stains the unblemished snow
And many others draw their last breath
Flashes of blue and gray a - blur in the mist
Becoming a frenzy of bullets and hate
Against family we raised a clenched fist
We must stop before it's too late
For a house divided against its own
Is a serpent that eats its own tail
Once united, we now stand alone
Each branching away from the unfinished rails.