MARCH OF THE MODERN INNOCENTS

Kenneth H. Gourley, June 1983

They're marching across the sky,

a throng of millions in ghastly disarray.

While they march the tears they cry

Fill the heavens with a rain of dismay.

The Savior stands to meet them,

His Holy Mother sitting at his side.

And they cry Jesus, Lord Jesus,

Why doesn't anyone want me?

Jesus, sweet Lord Jesus,

Won't you please take care of me?

A tear rolls down the Savior's face;

His Sacred Heart aches with piercing pain.

He thinks back to the days of Herod -

Could all this be happening again?

Before Me march the innocents -

The blessed innocents of modern age.

And they cry Jesus, Lord Jesus,

Why doesn't anyone want me?

Jesus, sweet Lord Jesus,

Won't you please take care of me?

His hands extend out over them;

Mother Mary rises up and walks ahead.

Their twisted bodies straighten

And halos form above each tiny head.

And heaven's gates swing open

To welcome all the newest of the blessed.

And they cry Jesus, Lord Jesus,

Forever with you we will be.

Jesus, thank you Jesus,

For giving Mother Mary to me.

Below in stunning apathy

The onslaught to life and God goes on.

Judges, doctors, intellects

In earthly wisdom talk of a new dawn.

Free to chose the life they see,

Concerned alas with only, only me.

They don't cry Jesus, Lord Jesus,

Is the only true way to be free.

They don't cry Jesus, Lord Jesus,

Won't you please take care of me.

And the heaven's shook!

And the sky turned black!

Another child has died!

And Lord Jesus cried!

Lord Jesus cried...

Kenneth H. Gourley

June 1983

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