A Dagger in the Dark

			
Be not like a dagger in the dark, Lord,
But as the glint upon the blade
Revealing, as light does, cloaked swords
 
Show more than a glint from the shadows behind.
And piercing, Lord, do not bite this heart,
 
And whose hand guides the sharpened steel?
Whose eye, who sees or knows the dark,
Cuts into the midnight veil?
 
Let me break the repetitious mold.
A heathen’s tongue is habit formed.
They speak, they speak and spit such words
As could drown a whole nation
They cite not law nor creed, but
Weave a web without fault, tight knotted
It holds fast against the breathing heavens