We did not make these doors,
Yet we too must walk through them.
Truth and Justice swing on rusted hinges,
The vandals bang them on the wall.
There is blood on the marble floor.
The soldiers walk in with their guns
Like the schools of fish in the sea,
Choreographing the shape of a monster.
The miasma of lies suffocates the air.
The righteous are affected by disaffection.
Newsmakers are tangled in headlines,
Isms rhyme with schisms.
We did not build these doors
But we must walk through them
To the other side: where Androcles
Stands with the lion at his feet.