The church members heard cries from the cram-packed, filthy railcars only a few hundred feet away. Moans forged a path through the softly falling snow. Don’t get political they said.

They just sang louder.

A child emerges from the womb in an exam room. A black van rolls up to harvest the organs. The backdoor is held open. Cash goes into the coffer.

We just sing louder.

An elderly man struggles to breathe, as he is forced to cover his mouth and nose in his care facility. His family hasn’t been allowed to come hug him in two years. He’s ready to go to Jesus.

We just sing louder.

A teenage girl stands in line at a clinic to attain the experimental gene therapy into her body. The peer-pressure was too great. She thought about her dream college, but maybe it’s easier to just end it all.

We just sing louder.

A shivering little boy is hurled over a huge wall. His clothes are torn and dirty, his stomach growling. He wonders where his family went. The mean men took green bills and said they didn’t want him anymore.

We just sing louder.

Her chest feels so heavy. Her girl said the doctor told her it would only take a few minutes and no one would ever have to know. She wondered what color his eyes would’ve been.

We just sing louder.

The muscular pilot prays the heart pain will subside as he attempts to land. His hands shake as he grasps the controls. The bright patches on his sleeve cover the spot where he permitted the needle yesterday.

We just sing louder.

A middle-aged woman lays in a hospital bed with a ventilator on her face. She heard them talking about her last lethal dose. Her husband wasn’t allowed in her room. She slips into a deep sleep.  

We just sing louder.

The girl is afraid her teacher will single her out again. All her masked friends have their heads down pretending to read. Laughing and playing on the playground last year seems so long ago.

We just sing louder.

His white coat is so hot and uncomfortable as he signs the medication order. The email he read earlier lingers in his mind as glances up to a framed certificate on his wall. His heart is pounding, “Do no harm.”

We just sing louder.

Every Sunday he preaches Jesus. The Board signs his check, denies a spiritual war. Don’t get political they said. The Holy Spirit taps his conscience as he separates the chairs and sets a blue box by the door.

We just sing louder.

A man with a tattered flag on his back walks into the lobby, hoping to garner funds to cover his rent and next meals. The gunshots still echo in his mind from when he watched his best friend pass over.

We just sing louder.

A lady looks up from her riding cart at the empty shelves. Her arthritic left hand shows a glimmer of diamond from post-war days of old. He didn’t want her to suffer this way.

We just sing louder.

A stage full of elites dance and clap to the beat. Their wallets are bursting with weight. The cellular towers are set. Poison is inserted in many arms. The fear psychosis is formed. Most are unaware of their secret plan for power.

How long will we just sing louder?