America's a dying ember
In a world of cold, hard coals.
Freedom's slowly flying forever
Beyond our utmost reach.

They think they're free,
Like light birds flying high
Up in a sky of hope-filled glee;
When its death is nigh.

We're struggling to keep afloat
This land red, white, and blue,
In a darkening, deepening moat
That's filled to hide what's true.

We cannot speak,
Our mouths are sealed closed;
We fear the peak
Of persecution's prowling jaws.

Through the laws subtly
Chains are forming slowly,
Yet through the culture blatantly
Good is now bad, and bad is good.

Yet no one is standing guard,
And no one pays attention.
They let the lion take them,
And don't know they've been eaten.

They think the lion's tongue is sweet,
They think his mouth is healthy;
When really poison flows from it,
And his sour breath is deadly.

"His hide is white"-
Yet it hides a heart of black sin.
"He does not bite"-
But he has already chomped on in.

So guard your heart,
Keep closed your mouth's gates;
All will get hurt
If you let enemies in or bad words out.

Pick up a sputtering flame,
And hold it close to the candle
To try and keep freedom's bane
From submersing America.

-Anne B. Caitlin

(This poem's alternate title is "America the Dying", a play on "America the Beautiful".)