They showed for vengeance. Stripped of fear and doubt they pushed a mighty throng up to the windows of evidence. In quiet moments the clouds breathed, drenching the deluge as summer took the stage. Inventing audacity the leaders seeking nothing good mounted crescendo. The surplus of ill will was palpable. Leaving a bitter residue of mounting displeasure for all to reckon.

In calculation the governor wept. Fear his only counsel, flight his only answer. Gone were the idle threats against overwhelming response to tyranny. For moments he took safety in a plan for escape to higher ground. Commercial trackers deployed the mercenary crew with allegiance to dollar pressed on before him to safety’s reach.

Slowed by obstacles unseen and misunderstood stimuli they flinched at the dark and light. No Quarter would be shown as the dams of repression were shattered and overrun by the wrath of those enslaved. Passions would not be repressed for good patience. the Lust of lives slighted and children wounded has overridden the quest to remain peaceful. They wanted heads, blood, money and destruction. Such is the will of mob pent man.

What was done this night would be regretfully celebrated for ages by those who sought justification in the demonstration of man’s frustration. What evolution they claimed champion would be lost in the actions of a scant resolve. Compassion absent as God stepped back to let men see the folly of their supremacy. Brute beasts speaking and delivering evil for evil when to rise above one must demonstrate restraint. These halls would forever be blackened by the fear, anger and spite of those who believed their own righteousness sufficient.

What then of mornings quiescence? What solemn resolve would heal the wounded plight? What moorings would tether the passions of those gone wandering to the still mountain of right action? There is no righted ship. No ground to be named or remain in holiness. Only the blood upon lip and teeth having been drained from grey matter overtaken by the emotions of man’s intent. For naught they sought good counsel in oracle. Who could only utter, “For shame”.