you hold the brick ready to fling it
  into the marching sea of blue
  and black

you feel nothing but bitter
  resentment at their smug
  looks and cold hard stares

packs of scarved men gather
  behind and ahead of us
  ready to engage the law

we touch the air in front
  of our bodies and create
  a cross

I pray to God and it's all
  up to Him now

. . .

your death was broadcast live
  throughout the world and
  the murdering men in blue
  are condemned by all nations
  for their immoral unforgiving
  actions against us and yet
  to me
  this is an empty victory

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