A Standard Raised, A Voice Stilled ( A poem in  Honour of Charlie Kirk)

A Standard Raised, A Voice Stilled (A poem in Honour of  Charlie Kirk)

He built his stage on restless ground,
Where youth and fervent hearts were found.
With words that sparked, with fire he spoke,
A voice that roused, a force that woke.
Like Paul on Mars Hill, he took his stand,
Before the crowds, across the land.
With questions sharp as a prophet’s cry,
He called the youth to lift their eyes.

From campus steps to crowded halls,
He answered questions, he broke the walls.
A dream of nation, strong and free,
Was etched into his legacy.
A torch he bore for faith and state,
For unborn lives, for freedom’s fate.
He built a camp where voices grew,
Turning points from old to new.

Time stopped against the ticking clock
In Daniel’s fire he would not bend,
In David’s zeal he did contend.
His words, like arrows, struck the air,
Defending truths he chose to bear.

Yet silence fell where hope had burned,
Time stopped against the ticking clock
But on that night, in Orem’s hall,
A Judas-breath, a fatal call.
The shot that pierced the prophet’s frame
Has carved a martyr’s hallowed name.

Now Pilate’s echo haunts the square,
“What is the truth?”—he asked, still there.
Yet Kirk has run his final race,
And rests at last in mercy’s grace.

The work he sowed shall not decay,
For seeds of faith outlive the clay.
And though his voice is stilled by night,
His standard waves in morning light.
Now memory holds what life let go,
A name inscribed in ebb and flow.
Though shadows came to claim the night,
The mark he left still carries light.

His murderer officers pursue ..

Written by Mensah Junior Raphael & ChatGpt