Lord, souls are suffering needlessly every night,
Outside, in the shop doorways of millionaires.
Even this nation's princess ignored their plight,
Visiting instead distant lands to glorify herself,
Listening to unanswered cares, helping no one.
While this nation's warring dead are
Tearfully honoured at many a cenotaph,
Lost souls living in hovels they abandon,
Without compassion, and without a final epitaph.
Thousands of obscenely rich choke the pleas
Of the destitute with self-preserving excuses,
Living in spacious dwellings, shamefully
Creating unsheltered lives with sanctioned abuses.
These enemies of Your imminent Kingdom
Publicly declare their innocence still,
While employing the poor to sustain their riches.
All share in this everlasting guilt, with their
Political misleaders and their "harlot" bitches.