In this time of oafs
there are still many 
who are grace and poise
embodied; let them hold
their places, let them
hold their ground. 

In this time of vampires
there are still many
who stand in the light 
unburned, unbothered;
let them be the lanterns,
let them illuminate the sacred.

In this time of slaughterhouse
and butchery, there are still many
whose blood sings with dance:
let them bathe the damaged;
let them hold the dying close;
let them see a good path ahead.

In this time the sound of the clock
is always there behind the murmur
of dead voice and there are those
whose being shuts it down. Let them
sing, dance, heal, stand their ground;
let them hold. Let them always hold.