Catholic during the Great Apostasy

They kill our children, they destroy our future, 
and you, a people who call yourselves faithful, stay silent, do nothing. 
Sometimes you shout online, but it’s just an echo. 
You don’t defend your own blood, you don’t stand in line. 
You bicker and argue – who’s better, who’s worse. 

What have those oath-breakers given you? 
They’ve always betrayed you, and you know it. 
You’ll say boldly, “I’m a patriot, I see their lies!” 
And you criticize, yet still you choose them. 

This isn’t about sides in this sea of deceit. 
They’ve all had their turn, circled, and shattered it all. 
Economy, politics – empty words, 
things we cling to like a glass in hand. 
But knock on your head, you who see only yourself. 

What of our children? 
In the clamor of filthy words, don’t you see 
you’re losing your offspring? 

We won’t save the millions yet unborn, 
for there’s falsehood in our hearts. 
Yes, falsehood – though we cry “no,” 
we quietly consent to death. 
“Lies!” – the shout will rise. 
Fine, live in your delusion, 
you’ll answer to the Creator yourselves. 

But what of those already born? 
Will we hand them over to corruption too? 

Think, you once-brave soul, 
bound by an eternal covenant of faith! 
They kill your children, and you stay silent. 
You don’t raise a shield, you don’t build a wall!? 

What’s the difference between the murder of the innocent unborn 
and the slaying of a child’s soul – a boy’s, a girl’s – 
in nurseries and schools drowned by waves of decay? 
Tell me, what? 

Speak, for perhaps I don’t understand. 
Is it easier to look at broken remains 
than to watch a child’s spirit die, 
crushed by lies through a lifetime? 

Maybe I’m a fool, and you in your wisdom 
will enlighten my narrow mind. 
Maybe instead of bowing to false ideals 
and the nonsense of hollow unity, 
you’ll kneel before God and cast off the yoke of evil? 

…Or are you a man without roots, 
boasting only in name? 

What?! 
Tell me truly – how much of your ancestors’ spirit runs in you, 
and how much of tyranny’s poison? 

And each will cry, “I’m of the free, not the enslaved!” 
Yet over this blood-stained land, 
a tree will weep, for only in it flows 
the true pride of ancient glory. 

No sword is needed – stop fooling yourself. 
Say, “We cannot live like this,” 
or perish in the shadow of your own weakness.

Arkadiusz Niewolski