For David

Once the adornment of a noble path,
Footprints of the awakened one approaching nirvana, 
Seduced to a more carnal form, reduced by lust for power,
O hooked-cross, what have you done?

Children of a dark master crying for his embrace,
Longing to breathe free in his lebensraum, 
Twist upon the rack of their fiery hate,
O hooked-cross what have you done?  

Hooked arms twist obscenely in the fumes,
dislocated joints trying to be made straight again,
Pain drips at the seams, stinking of dying flesh,
O hooked-cross, what have you done?

Where once stood love and mercy,
And comfort to those in pain,
Where a true cross once stood still and quiet, 
O hooked-cross, what have you done?