Justification

Some screams are cut short
By the muffled cadence of
Swift justice,

Justice that echoes down night's lonely corridor.

So my children know pain
Pain that is the foundation
Of love,

Love that seeks shelter under the wings of a great beast.

Still more have seen
The brilliant light that pierces and slices and cuts
The light of truth,

Truth that heaves on its shoulder a weary mountain of deceit.

Deceit, that great mis-architecture,
Unfathomable how deceit when used,
Can become truth when abused,
And love, when it waits,
Quickly becomes hate,
And justice . . .

Justice knows no full form, for justice is the most cosmic of paradoxes;
Mixing facts with fiction,
Affection with friction,
To bring all, barring none,
Under its jurisdiction.