We might whisper their names then pass them by

as in a graveyard;

the bite of fate is much too strong

and so often their victims return

to repeat the original crime. 

 

appearing plausible in every respect

yet inhabiting the soil that yields up

unclean intentions mostly hidden

from those as yet untainted. 

 

Step warily, for someone trusted may softly visit

on the call of a moon

then we must raise our silver cruficixes.

Let God deal with them

with his knowing grace and graven face

while we forever condemn with the chant

of another age another time.