Ring the bell;

cracked and worn,

its voice hoarse,

its last call heralds

the coming shadow.

Prepare for the end.

The magnificent beast

decimated by sloth and entitlement

has fallen to her knees,

her death celebrated

by those she birthed and sheltered,

adopted and protected.

Don’t cry “Woe is me,”

you slayers of virtue and voice—

you wallow in her blood;

it stains your hands.

Ring the bell slowly.

Call out the last count.

Lower the flag that you’ve spit upon.

Lady Liberty is dead.

Let the revolution begin.

©2008 Sharon Gerlach

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