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From left to right: Joan Andrews Bell, Jonathan Darnel, Jean MarshallPhoto Credit: Jim Hale / LifeSiteNews

Sign the prayer pledge for the nine pro-life rescuers facing a decade in prison.

(LifeSiteNews) —  Editor’s note: The following is a poem written by Jonathan Darnel who is currently in federal custody at the Alexandria Detention Center in Virginia along with seven other pro-life activists for participating in a traditional pro-life rescue of the unborn at a late-term abortion center in Washington, D.C. They face a potential 10 years in prison as they await sentencing this month by pro-abortion Judge Colleen Kollar-Kotelly, under charges of violations of the FACE Act and “conspiracy against rights.” 

LifeSiteNews’ extensive coverage of the D.C. Face Act trials be found here. 

The poem

Within this room of stone I lie 

and watch the traffic hurry by 

outside the narrow window pane 

where love and life alike are vain 

and ponder, between them and we 

who the real prisoners be. 

 

Eight months have passed now since the day 

that we were tried and locked away. 

Guilty! of not standing by 

while innocents were brought to die. 

Guilty! of denying choice 

for once with more than merely voice. 

 

It’s not with weapons or by force 

that rescuers save lives, of course, 

but with their bodies do implore 

for children who the world abhor 

and by this act grant dignity 

for “To hurt them, you must first hurt me.” 

 

Oh, great the rage of wounded pride 

from men unused to bring defied! 

How great their zeal to instill dread 

lest such defiance start to spread. 

Accordingly, did Federal beast 

on our humiliation feast 

and soon their petty verdict released. 

 

So now, inside our cells we wait 

til Moloch’s heirs decide our fate. 

And I am taken to reflect 

upon the voices who object 

that “Sacrifice has no effect! 

So best one’s liberty protect.” 

 

For now has passed full fifty years 

of endless blood (far fewer tears) 

as parents do their offspring kill 

by knife, suction machine and pill, 

as tiny corpses with no names 

are eaten up by rats and flames 

and inconvenient people bleed 

to satisfy both lust and greed. 

 

Is this the land I thought I knew 

where I was born, and loved, and grew? 

Where friend and kin live, ties are strong 

and everything I am belongs, 

all harmonized in life’s heartsong? 

And all my youth I could not see 

my home was bathed in savagery! 

Cruel leaven of reality 

now poisons every memory. 

 

How well this sad epiphany 

from idle things has severed me! 

How empty, pointless, cheap and lean 

the aims of average men now seem 

as they pursue transient gain 

oblivious to unborn pain. 

Their paths I cannot imitate. 

Such times great deeds necessitate. 

 

And I must not omit to say 

I see sparse difference between they 

who, fearing duty, babes dispose 

and the weedy soil who won’t interpose. 

These, sheltered beneath Gothic spires 

retort “Ye preach unto the choirs!” 

while all their days, they too pursue 

the idols unbelievers do 

and who, to maintain normal life 

and keep their families safe from strife 

spare not the time, have not the will 

the Great Commandment to fulfill. 

Thus “bad” and “good” behave akin, 

not trapped in jails, yet slaves to sin. 

 

Still, despite these griefs I pray 

that we at last will see a day 

when Sardis, weeping, completes her deeds, 

takes up her cross and then proceeds 

to teach and suffer and protest 

and sometimes even risk arrest 

til sinners do their guilt esteem 

and finally hear the silent scream. 

 

But some few must go first, it seems … 

 

Now we believe we’ve found a way 

to respect the imago dei 

and false authority defy 

and all excuses nullify. 

And having done this awkward deed 

we hope that those outside take heed 

and watch, to see how they proceed. 

 

Thus, better captive in these walls 

than to my fear I be a thrall. 

Better that false freedom cease 

than true freedom exchange for peace. 

Better men should me restrain 

than I, loving ease, from love refrain. 

 

Within this room of stone I lie 

and watch the traffic hurry by 

outside the narrow window pane 

where love and life alike are vain 

and ponder, between them and we 

who the real prisoners be. 

 

To help end the FACE Act, please visit: SmashTheFACE.life.

To read Jonathan Darnel’s blog, please visit: GetSeriousChurch.com.

Sign the prayer pledge for the nine pro-life rescuers facing a decade in prison.

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