THOSE HURT IN LONDON 07/07/05

When that awful silence falls
The guilty shamed
The innocent appalled
The righteous, seeking alibis
Spurn the unknown torture of the called
And as their saline salutations steep
The final moments of high belief
The fractured pools of heresy
Reflect distorted memories once sworn to keep
From the lupine existence of the truth
Liberty flees strewn with grief
For amongst the carnage steals the thief
Dispatched in time, that insidious sleuth
That ruthless slayer of the peace
Who gloats, hidden, the horror loosed.