a better kind of tale

 a missionary aching to be done

with all the trappings of the muddy past

shed the sad history as a worm its cast

be new and happy in the springtime sun

we know who has this and there is not one

secure or guarded from the sullen blast

of deep-felt hatred striking at the last

signs of old story shouting out they've won

there are some means of easing the old ire

of turning rage back into wholesome ways

of decent living yet we watch each fail

as all our truths are cast into the fire

just so a new world can face different days

and there can be a better kind of tale