A Still Small Voice

Lilliputian semblance that, she is
vilified prophet — a still small voice
amplified by millions, speaks hard truth
to my generation’s privilege,
our inexplicable inaction.

Ignominious cohort, I am
of a beast which bears not the burden
of our collective sins. That we leave
to our children and to their children,
our graves a refuge from consequence.

Obsequious penitent, I am
bound to their crusade to set things right,
a willing indentured conscript, thus
apostate to a fallacious myth,
the malignancy of status quo.

Juvenescent hope wanes in a world
where opulent now steals from their then,
yet dreams of a bountiful bequest,
a birthright justly preserved by those
hearts wide open to that still small voice.