As I sit on a mountain in Desolation Wilderness,
I'm overwhelmed by America's terminal illness.
I write overlooking Fallen Leaf Lake,
an appropriate name for all the lives we take.
How can a country be so insane,
on its unborn children it inflicts deadly pain?
Our serial killers have medical degrees,
the prince of darkness is well pleased.
How did America end up such an evil place,
where every abortion spits in our Creator's face?
Maybe God's mistake was giving us free will,
where over one million a year choose their child to kill.
He wanted us to love Him as a matter of choice,
never dreaming His unborn children would not have a voice.
I wonder if pride is at the heart of it all,
and like with Satan, it has led to our fall?
I guess it is easy to believe all the lies,
but what about the blood when another child dies?
Between a woman and her doctor, a privacy right,
ignores the child at the heart of the plight.
Can there be enough heavenly grace,
to forgive America's national disgrace?
A trail of tears that we can never let be,
until every unborn heartbeat has been set free.
It is never right to do what is wrong,
and keep a mockingbird from singing her song.
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