On impermanence and permanence

Guilty judge eager to ease his soul
Washes his hands
Of the blood of God.
All the waters of seas and rivers
Will wash clean his mind.
The clerics who hid behind mobs
Crying for his blood
Reconstruct their pious faces.
Knowing an incurable inner spilt
Inescapable and everlasting,
Soldiers torment their families
As executioners always do.

Those loved ones
Unmoved by terror,
Attend to last decencies
Paid to the condemned one
With dignity, defiance and decorum.
He had taught them
Of impermanence of power and hate
And permanence of love.

Basil Fernando